Wicked Innocence
by ninadobsession
Summary: The weak and vulnerable should avoid the dog-eat-dog entertainment industry at all costs. So then why didn't Damon and Elena? A story of attachment, flirtation, passion, and love that proves: "All things truly wicked start from innocence."
1. Prologue: The Beginning of the End

Chapter 1: Beginning of the End

**"One should always be in love. That is the reason one should never marry." - Oscar Wilde_  
_**

_D-Day_

The scrawled red letters on the dry-erase calendar were written in the same format as the rest of the events were. Blue for Henry's things, red for hers, green for everything else. It had been up on her fridge for about a week now, a focal point in the kitchen. But it was different this morning. Because _today_ was D-Day. And Elena, regardless of what she told everyone else, was far from prepared for what that would bring.

Elena yanked open the fridge door, accomplishing her original goal of getting some skim milk for her coffee. She didn't need to read the rest of the small square. She knew the day's events already. Her mind had been running through her schedule since the moment she'd woken up. She mentally scrolled through her to-do list as she near robotically ripped open the two Splenda packets and stirred the milk into the hot, dark liquid.

Next step: email. Elena figured if she maintained her routine as much as possible, she wouldn't feel the need to have a complete mental breakdown. She settled onto the oak stool on the other side of the marble countertop, dragging her laptop from its place next to the outlet. As it loaded, her gaze wandered around the house.

She'd hated it when she'd first stepped in, regardless of the fact that it had been exactly what she was looking for. She'd bought it out of necessity, not desire, and it had taken her over a year to feel truly at home there. But now its positives outweighed all of the bad memories and she could appreciate it. It was the perfect size for a small family, not some gargantuan mansion like her acquaintances all seemed to own. Because of its more private location, she was able to have a multitude of skylights and windows, allowing her a beautiful view of the rolling hillside it was placed on. Over the years, she'd personalized the house to her liking and she was so grateful she was able to call this place home.

The emails were nothing special. Most could be deleted immediately, various pleas for her to do things she had neither the time nor desire to do. Elena searched for the one she had been expecting, the confirmation of the day's plans from her "person" Jenna. Elena's face cracked into a small smile seeing the woman's bold, colorful font. Jenna had become such a good friend to her over the years that even the nagging to "eat light" didn't bother Elena in the slightest. Hell, this was the same woman who had taken every piece of junk food out of Elena's house a few months back, plastering pictures of a thinner Elena on nearly every square inch of the kitchen. Elena had realized a long time ago that "agents" or "managers" didn't work well so she'd decided to refer to Jenna as her person… her very, very well paid person.

Elena let out a soft groan. She was already exhausted just scrolling down the list. "It's going to be one long fu- Henry!" Her eyes caught sight of the young boy toddling his way across the hardwood floors of the kitchen. His speed increased once his mother extended her arms to lift him into her lap.

"How's my handsome little man?" She grinned. Almost immediately her mood was lifted seeing his tired and grumpy face. He was the furthest thing from a morning person, just like his father.

"Got sleepies," he grumbled, his fist awkwardly lifting to brush at the corner of his eye. Elena reached out her finger, lightly dusting away the small crust that had formed.

"All better?" The boy nodded, dropping his head into his mother's chest.

The pair sat in comfortable silence, Elena unable to do much with her arms the way he was rested in them. Suddenly the boy's head shot up, his eyes wide in excitement. "Is today the big O day?!"

Elena laughed. She knew what he was _trying_ to say, but she was grateful that no one else was around to overhear his unintended innuendo. "Mhm. So that means…" She let her voice trail off, knowing her overenthusiastic son would fill in the blank.

"Daddy's house!" He shouted. The cheek-splitting smile he was wearing broke Elena's heart, her face falling.

She shook her head back and forth. "No, sweetie. We talked about this. You'll see Daddy _next_ weekend."

Henry immediately pouted. "But I want Daddy!"

Elena's smirk grew mischievous. "Well then, I should _probably_ call your uncle and tell him you're canceling your plans." As predicted, the boy's face lit up and he began to rapidly bounce up and down in her lap, his level of gibberish increasing.

And almost as if on cue, the doorbell rang throughout the open house.

Henry squealed, squirming enough to indicate he wanted to get down. Elena placed him on the floors, chuckling as he wobbled ahead of her. Once they reached the front of the house, he began rapidly smacking the wooden door in impatience.

"Hen, you have to move if you want me to get the door open." The boy obediently replied, shifting back and forth on his socked feet.

"Uncle Stefan!" Henry wrapped his body around the tall man's calf before he'd even entered the house.

"Hey little buddy," Stefan grinned, letting out a grunt as he leaned down to pick the boy up, bringing him to face level. "Ready to have some man time?"

Henry's head rocked up and down, eliciting a laugh from Stefan's lips. The female voice from behind him caught Elena off guard.

"I don't think Henry would be opposed to some pretty blonde time beforehand, though." Caroline's bouncy curls came from around Stefan's form, shooting Elena a sly smile. "Do you want me to get him ready?"

Elena reached forward, pulling her into a hug. "I thought you'd be drowning in beauty treatments by now."

"I was just coming to help get him to the house. Plus, I wanted to see you before… _everything_." Caroline twisted her head around and, content to see that Stefan was distracting Henry, turned back to her friend. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine. Kind of just ready for it to be over." Elena replied, the smile on her face award-worthy.

Caroline looked unconvinced, but finally acquiesced. Nodding her head up and down, she ran her hands down her arms comfortingly. "Alright, well let me get the monster out of his pajamas and into some of the adorable clothes _I _picked out for him. Is his bag all ready to go?"

"Yep. It's right next to the dresser. Everything you need should be in there."

"Okay, hottie," Caroline pivoted on her heel, reaching into her fiancé's arms to pull Henry into her own. "Lets go try to manage those wild curls." She teasingly ran her hand through his near unnaturally thick hair and exited the foyer, walking up the stairs to his room.

After hearing the door close, Stefan's voice broke through the silence. "Hey."

"Hey," Elena murmured back. Damn, that sounded a lot more put together in her head.

Immediately, Stefan's arms were wrapped around her, pulling her into an embrace. She shakily intertwined her own arms around his waist, letting out a deep exhale. There were only three men who could give her hugs that actually felt comforting. Sure, Stefan was number three on that list, but his was the only one that ever truly made her feel safe.

"What's going on in that head of yours, crazy?" Stefan's calm voice rang in her ear.

Elena let out a slight laugh, her gaze going towards the still-open door behind him. "Wondering how far I'd get before you caught me."

Stefan stepped back a bit. "Eh. I'd let you make it to the driveway out of pity. Plus, as an _added_ best friend bonus, I'd tackle you into the grass so your face didn't get all scraped up for the cameras."

"Ah, your generosity is second to none, Stef."

Elena smiled as his hand reached out to play with her jawline, forcing her to meet his gaze. He could always see straight past the "I'm fine" bullshit and make her feel comfortable enough to say how she really felt. She sighed, pulling his hand down and walking into the adjacent living room, plopping down on the couch with a wearied gaze. Stefan trailed behind, sitting down next to her a lot more gracefully. They sat in silence for a few moments before Elena began.

"Today, I will officially become a twenty-three year old single mother divorcée who's still in love with the damn bastard but for some reason pushed him away because god forbid she does something right in this world who then has to go walk the red carpet tonight in an uncomfortable, itchy gown while hundreds of people take pictures of her as she fakes a smile when she's told she didn't actually win." Elena stared into the fireplace, taking a deep breath at the end of her run-on sentence. "So to answer your previous question, _that's_ what's going through my head."

Stefan smirked. He knew her well enough to be aware of where her head was. "Well, would you like me to talk you down off of that proverbial cliff or just stare at you awkwardly until Care comes back downstairs?"

"Well, the breeze is nice up here." Elena's wisecrack fell flat. "Alright, go ahead. Shoot out all your perfect wisdom that's completely cliché but will still make me feel the slightest bit better."

He didn't even hesitate, already prepared to do his best friend duty. "Firstly, you're still keeping it tight at twenty three so don't say it with that much disgust." Elena's face flushed with fake offense, slapping Stefan playfully on the arm. "Ouch," he chuckled. "Secondly, you have done far more good than evil. And it's a little hard to convince me you've never done something _right_ when that red carpet you're talking about is the Oscars and you'll be wearing that uncomfortable dress when they announce your name as the winner of Best Writing for an Original Screenplay." Elena's gaze turned dubious at his choice of words. "Yes, I said when. Uncle Stefan is always right so hush. And thirdly…"

Stefan paused, preparing his words carefully. "Well, you know how I feel about D-Day."

Elena sighed, her gaze once again getting lost on the unlit log. "I would be lying to you if I said I hadn't considered it a thousand different times last night. But it's better this way… for everyone. We just became so toxic and… as much as I love him, the love doesn't get rid of that."

"Look, I agree with you, Elena. You guys had the shittiest and most toxic relationship I've ever witnessed. And you know I haven't been a fan of it since the beginning. But don't you think times have changed? You two were young and stupid and immature in all the wrong ways… but look at you now. I haven't seen him in months but… I can see it in you. You're different. You've grown up, figured out your shit. After everything you've been through, you've become a better person."

"That's the thing, though. The second I let him in… hell, the second you put me in the same room as him… all of that's gone. I'm back to that naïve, selfish eighteen year old who fell for the first guy who batted his eyelashes at her. This involves more than me now, Stefan. Henry's in this, too. This is the best solution. He's still in Henry's life and I can stay in mine, perfectly unaffected."

Stefan laughed. "Yeah, _unaffected_. Good luck with that."

Both turned their heads as they heard Caroline bouncing down the stairs, Henry resting on her hip. "I think we're all set," she chirped. Stefan pushed himself off of the couch, making his way over to her, as Elena slowly rose from her seat, as well. A sad smile formed on her face seeing the way Stefan looked at Caroline. While Elena still felt partially uncomfortable in her role as mom, Caroline was a natural. She was meant to carry a baby in one arm, bottle in the other.

Elena walked over to the couple as Caroline put Henry on the ground so that he could toddle over to her. Elena crouched down, pulling him into her arms. And there was the second perfect hug.

"You're going to be so good for your mommy… right, little Hen?" Her smile grew stronger as a few tears pricked at her eyes. "And you're not going to get scared or sad because you know you're going to see me tomorrow…" He nodded fiercely. "That's my brave boy." Elena pulled him into one last hug and then, pushing off from her knees, watched as he ran to Caroline again.

"I'll see you in a few hours, hun," Caroline called out over her shoulder, taking Henry to the car.

"Call or text if you need anything today." Stefan walked back to Elena, planting a kiss on her cheek and then walking to the door. "Just remember that we agreed that me sending you pictures of my six-pack doesn't actually help your psyche, no matter how badly you want them."

"Speaking of someone who hasn't changed a bit!" Elena shouted after him, laughing. But once the door closed behind him, her humored demeanor faded instantly. The average sized house suddenly felt enormous, as she stood in the middle of it all alone. Elena took a deep breath, willing herself the energy to go upstairs and actually get dressed, but it took nearly all of her strength not to just sink back into the couch and go to sleep.

Her mind drifted to the one place she hated for it to go. Where was he right now? What was he doing in his last "legally attached" hours? And was his mind in the exact same place as hers?

_All alone_, she repeated in her mind. And today, no matter how many crowds she stood in, it would become official.

* * *

"Everything looks good here, Ms. Gilbert." Elena gulped in anticipation as the kind-hearted lawyer in front of her slid the papers back towards her end of the desk along with an expensive-looking pen. "You agree with all of the terms set forth and there's nothing here that will quote-unquote 'screw you over' in the long run. Since he has already signed, all you have to do is add yours and you are, in the eyes of the legal system, a successfully divorced couple."

Elena assumed that her life would only flash before her eyes when she died, yet for some reason, as she shakily picked up the pen, all she could see was him. The lawyer began flipping through some extraneous documents, as though she wasn't hanging on by just her fingertips, preparing to finally and permanently let go.

The pad of her finger traced over the place where _Damon Salvatore _was signed in black ink as her mind tried to figure out where it had all gone wrong.

A small smile twitched at the end of her lips. _Ah, yes. Of course. In the same way that it had started._

A swear word in the library.

**I've never been more excited or more terrified for a story than I am for this one.**

**All I ask is that you give it a few chapters before you write it off completely. There's still a lot of story to tell. :)**

**PS. The final chapter of YBR will be up within the week.**


	2. September 2006

**Thank you guys so much for the wonderful support already! It means the world to me given that I'm terribly invested in this fic already and it's only the second chapter. I'll keep the author's note short for now, but let me know if you like longer author's notes where I go into more detail about the story. I did that with my now-completed fic Yellow Brick Road, but I don't want to bother you with information you don't care about. So in your review, which I know every single one of you will leave ;), tell me 1) how you feel about long author's notes and 2) how you feel about the fic (duh!)**

* * *

**September 2006**

_And I heard your voice_

_As clear as day_

_And you told me I should concentrate_

_It was all so strange_

_And so surreal_

_That a ghost should be so practical_

_Only if for a night_

"Shit!"

Damon almost let out a growl as his head whipped up. The near constant swearing and groans coming from the study room next to him were driving him up the wall. Surprisingly enough, they weren't even the sexual ones, regardless of the fact that he was on one of the top floors of the library, an infamous item on the college's unofficial bucket list. The person on the other side of him was clearly not happy with her studies, but God forbid she stayed silent about it.

It didn't help that Damon didn't want to be there in the first place. It was a Saturday night, after all. Ever since he'd gotten his first "real lawyer" job at a local firm, one of the partners had been riding his ass and making him complete ridiculous tasks. It reminded Damon of the hazing he'd gone through to get into his fraternity. Nearly every day, Damon was required to do stuff that not even a _secretary_ would deign to, but he did it regardless. He had to keep his job or else his whole life plan would go straight down the toilet. And that just wasn't allowed to happen.

One of these abhorrent tasks was plaguing him this particular evening. For some unknown reason, he'd been assigned the paperwork typically done by a paralegal, paperwork that made little to no sense to Damon's untrained eyes. Sure he knew his way around a law office and a courtroom, but there was a reason a paralegal went through a separate program. The documents in front of him looked like a foreign language. He'd received no further instructions other than that they needed to be completed and on this guy's desk by two on Sunday afternoon. Since Damon was a good Southern gentleman raised in a small town, Sunday mornings meant church and then brunch with the family. That meant Damon had to get all of his work done by the end of the night or else he was screwed.

Rose, his fiancée, hadn't been much of a help. Not that it was her fault necessarily. She'd been planning this end of summer party since June and Damon hadn't known about his assignment until the day before. She'd tried to convince him to stay and hang out with all of his friends, but he'd explained to her that this wasn't something he could blow off if he wanted to keep his job. Having a job meant having enough money to get married and have kids, so Rose finally conceded to his leaving, sending him off with a kiss on the cheek.

Of course, since the party was at his house, Damon had found refuge in the local university's library. Damon was only slightly familiar with the building, given that he'd spent the majority of the last three years in the law library rather than the main one. He'd attended an incredibly small school close to his hometown for his undergraduate degree, choosing the large state school with the incredible law program for his graduate. After passing the bar and securing a life in the same town as said college, Damon had become familiar enough and had even dutifully attached a flag with the school colors to his townhome. The dream had been secured and now all he had to do was get through the mountain of unreasonable tasks that lay ahead of him.

But it was a little bit difficult to do when the foul mouth next door was having a meltdown every five minutes.

"Goddamnit!" Damon jumped at her latest exclamation, hearing a loud thud echo through the rooms. Either she'd fallen out of her chair or thrown an incredibly loud textbook. The study rooms might have been soundproof to those in the main areas of the library, but the walls in between were paper-thin.

Damon had been subjected to this torture for over an hour now and, after looking down at his paperwork, he realized he'd barely made a dent. He let out a dramatic exhale as he saw that it was already almost midnight and the library supposedly closed at two. If the girl next to him kept this up, there was no way in hell he'd be able to finish in time.

Damon had never been a fan of confrontation. In high school and college, fights and drunken brawls had been for those who "hadn't been raised right." Guys with no future beyond what they planned to shoot that weekend. And, to be quite honest, Damon had never really had to fight for much in his life. Although he hadn't been an athlete like most of his friends, he'd been practically born into the popular group, securing both student body president and prom king his senior year. He'd won over Rose Abington at fifteen and they'd been together ever since. No random break for a few months mixed in. They'd been solid and steady since their very first kiss.

This was all fairly surprising, given that just decades earlier, the Salvatores had been the most hated family in the entirety of Wilson. Who would willingly associate with those dirty Italian immigrants who had infiltrated their tranquil town? But Damon's grandfather had forged alliances and friendships, building a furniture empire from the ground up. From him, Damon had learned that you could do anything you set your mind to, as long as you were willing to make the necessary sacrifices. For his grandfather, that meant forgetting their Catholic heritage ever existed and joining the Baptist church on the corner. And tonight, for Damon, it meant confronting the obnoxious student next to him.

Damon shoved the door open that led to the main stacks, noting the floor was almost empty. Made sense. It was the first weekend back after a long summer. He couldn't even imagine the amount of debauchery these kids were getting up to. Although he'd never been a big participant back in the day, he'd witnessed and heard enough to know what went down on a weekend night.

It was only about two steps before he was taking a deep breath and preparing himself for whatever was inside the small and stuffy room. He'd never been one for judgment, but clearly this girl was probably not the pretty blonde sorority type. The breath was much easier to take realizing that. It would make this conversation a lot easier if the person he was speaking to didn't intimidate him. Damon chastised himself at the thought. Was he really that pathetic that an attractive undergrad would make him nervous? _Buck up, Salvatore._

Damon knocked twice before pushing open the door, not waiting for an invitation… which he quickly realized was a mistake only a second after he'd flung it open. Sitting at the small table was a slim brunette, who couldn't be more than twenty, her wide brown eyes red-rimmed and the lightest bit of mascara running down her cheeks. Although the amount of papers on the table was minimal, they were half torn from heavy erasing. He could also see a large amount of residual pencil marks on the girl's hands.

Damon instantly hated himself. For some unknown and unfair reason, he'd only heard her anger, not her tears. And as indicated by the shocked and shameful expression on her face, he'd just humiliated her. She was clearly having a crappier night than he was and seeing her vulnerability in this moment made him feel sympathetic.

So instead of the polite plea to stop her profanity, Damon began the gentleman's routine. "Are you alright?" He asked genuinely.

The girl, wearing a long-sleeved white shirt, wiped underneath her eyes with her sleeves, not realizing it was only smearing the small amount more and staining the cotton. "Yeah, I'm fine." Damon noticed the bitterness in her tone. He quirked his eyebrows, looking at her with a dubious expression. Was she really going to say that she was _fine_ when she had been having an audible, and now visible, breakdown? She wouldn't put him off that easily.

He tried again. "You're _fine_?" Her frown deepened. She obviously hadn't been expecting him to question her once she'd rebuked him the first time.

"Well, no. I'm not. But it's nothing that you can help me with so, to _you_, I'm fine."

Damon recalled one particular night from high school in which three of his female friends had had emotional breakdowns, one right after the other. One had been cheated on, one had been dumped, and one was just overly wound up and in love with a guy who barely glanced her way. If he'd learned anything from that evening, it was that women tended to get defensive and angry when upset. You just have to break down that wall to be able to help.

"Well, I can get you some water or something…" He trailed off, hoping she'd take the bait.

Her anger suddenly shifted into something a little bit subtler: fear. "Why are you being so nice to me?" She inquired, her voice thick. "And why did you come in here?"

Damon grimaced, realizing his confrontation was going to have to come regardless. "Well, uh… I could, um, hear you." He hated that her face flushed even deeper at his words. "And I just wanted to see if I could help you out somehow."

She crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze going from apprehensive to accusatory. "My mother told me that if a college guy's nice to me, he just wants to have sex with me."

Damon's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. Okay, clearly this girl was blunt. The haphazard thought that his mother would have immediately hated her ran through his mind. "No, no, no, no, no." He waved his left hand in the air. "For one thing, I'm twenty five and engaged." He stupidly pointed at his ring finger as if he actually had something there to indicate his relationship status. "And secondly, I'm just trying to be a nice guy. I'll leave if I'm making you uncomfortable."

She seemed to believe him almost instantly, surprising since only seconds earlier she'd seemed so sure that he was just trying to get into her pants. She bit her lip, regarding him, before she finally spoke, once again messing up her eye makeup by rubbing her lids with the back of her hands. "Um, water would be great actually. Thank you."

Damon managed a half smile, briskly walking out of the study room and past his own, heading towards the closest water fountain. He pulled two of the cheap plastic cups out of the dispenser and filled them a reasonable amount. His brain, so focused on the menial task at hand, didn't even bother to contemplate how weird this situation had become. He couldn't even remember the amount of work he had left to do. Once he got back to the study room door, he pinched the tops of the two cups in one hand and gently eased it open, delicately placing the fragile containers on the table in front of her.

She'd tried to become a bit more presentable while he'd been gone. The scattered papers had been organized in somewhat neat stacks and the textbook he'd noticed on the floor was now next to her right arm. Her hair, longer than he'd realized, was now down, but without a mirror, she didn't realize that half of it was matted on one side. The black makeup still gave her raccoon-like eyes, but the sleeves of her shirt had been pushed up to her elbows after she'd noticed the stains.

He was almost amused by the way her brow furrowed at the two cups of water. "The cups here are pretty worthless. You'll get that first one down in about three sips, so I brought the second one in case you get thirsty later." Her face softened at his unexpected kindness and Damon felt a rush of pride. Going above and beyond the call of duty: lesson number two in always getting what you want.

"Well, thank you," she nodded curtly, as if to dismiss him. Her focus immediately went back to her work, but he could see her shoulders visibly deflate the second her eyes hit the paper. Damon grimaced. Whatever gentlemanly training he'd had over the past two decades told him that leaving a "damsel in distress" would be the worst possible thing he could do at this moment. He sighed, looking in the general direction of where his own stack of paperwork sat. He then gazed back at the girl, so caught up in her own stressful world that she'd barely noticed he was still standing there. She hadn't exactly been too open to any version of his help so maybe, once he offered, she'd shoot him down. His conscience eased a bit as he made his decision. He'd give her the option, but he'd take it as a sign that he should go do his own work if she said no.

"What are you working on?" He was right in his earlier assumption that she'd been incredibly distracted. She let out a slight gasp, eyes wide as she refocused her attention on him.

Her eyebrows furrowed again adorably. "Um, math." She regarded him carefully, probably hoping it was the end of the conversation. But as Damon stepped closer to her to glance at the work, she elaborated. "I, uh, hate it, but it's a general education requirement to take two classes so… here's number one. The most basic course I could find."

Damon nodded, the formulas and equations near instantly recognizable to him. He knew the stuff like the back of his hand. Because he'd always been smart, he'd been taking advanced math courses since the sixth grade.

"Would you like some help? I can just explain some concepts if you'd like."

"What?!" She balked. Her face grew a little paler. Crap, he was scaring her.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to freak you out." His words weren't comforting her. "You have every reason not to trust me, but I swear I'm just cursed with nice guy syndrome. I genuinely just want to help."

Her mouth was slightly agape as she stared at him. "This is way too weird," she muttered, but with the way her eyes lit up in alarm after her statement, he realized she'd clearly meant to keep that thought in her head. "I'm sorry," she corrected quickly. "It's just… you _are_ kind of weird." The second she started, she couldn't stop. "Like you just walked in here and got me water and offered to help me with my math homework at eleven o'clock on a Saturday night but I need to learn how to do it by myself or else I'm going to fail and you keep smiling really creepily and I'm having a really crappy night already and on top of all of this, I don't even know who you are so I'm sorry but no!"

Damon stood in shock. Just seconds earlier, this girl had seemed so timid and meek. Shy girls were easy to deal with. He wasn't sure how deep down it was, but she had an exorbitant amount of passion under the surface. And it was just enough to bring out his.

Damon nodded, a small grin appearing on his face. "Alright. Let's fix that." Damon came closer to her, this time not scaring her but just surprising her. "Hi, I'm Damon." He reached out his hand, waiting for her to take the bait.

Her gaze flickered back and forth between his outstretched hand and his face. After what felt like an excruciatingly long period of time, she reached her own hand out. "I'm Elena." Damon smirked. It suited her.

"Okay, moving on. You can't judge me for being in the library at eleven o'clock on a Saturday night when you're here, too."

"Yes, I can. You're a grown man." She warily shot back. _Dang, where had she been hiding this? _But every time her spark showed, Damon's smile just grew wider.

"I beg your pardon! I'm only a couple of years older than you!" He replied cheekily.

She readjusted her position in the chair, priming herself for a war of words. "Yes, but _I'm_ actually a student. _You're_ not."

"Exactly," Damon leaned in closer, wanting to knock her down off her pedestal a bit. It worked. She noticeably tensed anytime he was within a foot or two of her. "Aren't you supposed to be 'girls gone wild-ing' it up at a frat somewhere?"

Elena flushed, her gaze going downwards. "That's, uh, not really my scene."

"Fair enough." Damon glanced around the room, an idea forming in his head. "How about this? I have work of my own. I'm going to bring it in here, sit down right next to you, and we can both do our work in peace. _If_, and emphasis on the _if_, you need me to look something over, offer a few hints to lead you in the right direction, I'll be right here. If not, we can just sit in comfortable silence until one of us leaves." He smirked. "Plus, I mean, who else is gonna help you ward off _other_ guys with creepy smiles that offer to get you water?"

Elena's doubtful expression broke at his last words, a small giggle escaping her lips. She let out a sigh, looking around at the amount of work she had left. "Okay," she nodded.

Damon smiled, quickly going back into his own study room to grab his work and then reentered hers. She'd already gone back to the textbook in front of her, as per the agreement, but he could feel her gaze flicker onto him as he settled into the chair next to her own. The table was pretty small, so there was no room for pretending that there wasn't another person adjacent.

Thankfully, Damon's conversation with Elena had reenergized him a bit, and the tedious documents didn't seem nearly as terrible as they had been. He sailed through them, checking off boxes where needed and filling out information that was common knowledge. It was almost thirty minutes in before he felt a slight tap on his shoulder.

She looked mortified to be asking him in the first place so when she feebly placed a finger onto a problem she completed, he just had to guess what she was asking. Damon scanned through the formulas she'd written out, but grimaced as he noticed a glaring mistake.

"Alright, which would you rather me do?" He questioned. "Guide you to the right answer without giving anything away? Or just tell you what you did wrong? Typically I'd feel obligated to do the 'right thing' but I did scare you earlier so I'm willing to let this one slide."

Elena groaned. "Just tell me. I've been working on this problem for the past twenty minutes. I'm ready to rip my hair out." Damon tried to hide his shock. This was something that could be easily done in _three_ minutes. Clearly, she was in a deeper mess than he'd first assumed. Damon simply reached his own pen over and, beneath her scratches, wrote out the correct method. After he'd finished it, he turned his head just slightly to see her reaction. And all he saw was frustration.

She stayed silent, muttering a half-hearted "thanks" before sliding the notebook back to her side. Damon watched her, her face flushed with what he could only determine to be a mixture of embarrassment and fury. Out of respect, Damon decided to not call her out on the small tear that escaped from the corner of her eye. When she shyly turned her head to see if he'd witnessed it, he'd already pivoted his own, fully concentrated on his own work again.

They continued in this blissfully ignorant state until the bored college student at the front desk spoke over the intercom, delivering the monotone news that the library would be closing in thirty minutes. By this point, Elena had finished both plastic cups of water, one crumpled up from her overly tense fist. Damon checked his phone and noticed that it was nearly two in the morning. He wasn't even that surprised that Rose had neglected to check on him. She'd never been one of those overly vigilant girlfriends, always needing to know where her man was and exactly what he was doing. If anything, she was a bit _too_ negligent in that category.

Before Damon could begin packing away his (miraculously) finished work, Elena's clear voice rang out in the small study room. "So what were you? A math major or something?" Damon's stomach clenched when he turned and noticed that she was only about halfway done, and only god knew if it was even correct.

"Uh, Communications, actually. I'm a lawyer." He secretly liked the way her eyes widened at his occupation. Most of the time, when he shared that particular tidbit of information, people's eyes just glazed over. Women were simply far too intrigued with the amount of money he could potentially be making, and any person from his hometown couldn't care less. It was just expected. Cleary, Elena still had the impression that lawyers were the big wigs seen on courtroom-based TV shows. Not the Judge Judy kind, but the primetime dramas that always had reruns on TNT or USA.

Once Elena started putting her things into her bag, Damon felt like he could as well. "Well, I'm sorry you got stuck helping some freshman with her basic math homework. If you couldn't tell, it's not really my strength." Damon's eyes flickered to her unfinished work and back to her quickly, but she'd caught him regardless. "Don't worry. I still have all of tomorrow." She paused. "Well, today."

A small quirk of Damon's lips calmed Elena slightly. "I didn't get stuck in anything. I offered. Remember: 'nice guy syndrome?'" A rush of relief crossed Elena's features and Damon finally tucked the leather messenger bag across his body, waiting graciously for her to finish packing. He followed her out, an awkward silence filling the space between the unusual pairing, as he flicked off the lights and crossed to where the elevators were. Damon always hated uncomfortable silences. His long history of popularity and debate club taught him that there was always an appropriate subject to discuss, but at the moment, his brain could think of nothing beyond the clean, citrus smell of her perfume as the elevator doors closed on them and they began the steady descent to the main floor.

"Shit," she murmured. Damon smirked. Although he'd earlier been annoyed by her dirty mouth, he found it somewhat endearing now, given that she seemed very naïve and innocent. It was odd. His mother had always taught him that a lady should rarely swear, but Elena didn't seem like less of a lady for it. In fact, the words always sounded strangely _wrong_ falling from her lips, like a small child or your grandmother.

"I pressed the wrong button," Elena reported apologetically. Just as she said it, the doors opened to the second floor. "Sorry, I'm overly tired." She made a move to press the button marked "L" but Damon instead crossed in front of her, making his way towards the stairs. Elena stuck her hand out to block the door from closing.

"What? Can't handle some exercise?" He whispered after turning back to her, given that they were now on a floor that was bit more crowded.

He saw a flicker of mischief in her eyes. Clearly, this girl enjoyed a challenge. She stepped out almost immediately and pushed forward, cutting him off in her attempt to get to the stairs first. Damon knew better than to push a girl, but once they got to the wide staircase, he cut around the side of her, each picking up speed in an attempt to get to the bottom first. Damon wasn't particularly quick, so they stayed at the same pace for almost the entire duration of their spontaneous race, but right at the end, Damon got just two steps ahead. Of course, he couldn't help getting cocky, turning his head at the last moment to shoot her a boastful grin. She was wearing a matching smile, but a faux expression of anger marred her face.

Damon didn't bet on the fact that he would miss the last step.

He hit the ground hard, the majority of his weight hitting his upper right arm. He let out a long groan. Damon knew it would probably be nothing worse than a dark bruise, but his pride was hurt far worse.

Elena was immediately crouched down next to him, panic-filled eyes staring him down. "Oh my god, Damon. Are you all right? Do you think you broke something?"

Damon knew he would attract far more attention if he stayed on the floor, so he quickly sat up, grabbing the pen that had fallen out of his bag. Elena reached her hand out warily, although he ended up using his own strength to pull himself up into a standing position.

"Just my dignity," he replied, slightly rubbing his hand on the sore spot. The undergrads sitting at the nearby tables were openly giggling and Damon felt a strong desire to leave as soon as possible. Since he'd rarely experienced it, Damon didn't deal with humiliation well.

Elena must have picked up on that unspoken wish and pushed forward on his upper back, guiding him out as though he needed a helping hand. Not that he didn't appreciate the feel of her warm palm on his tense back.

Elena pushed the door open for the both of them and the hot, humid air hit them hard. The Southern air didn't care that it was September. Thankfully, a slight breeze made the evening heat more bearable.

"At least you won," Elena murmured. Now that she knew he didn't have a concussion, her playful side was back.

Damon scoffed, staring up into the star-filled sky. "Yeah. I didn't exactly stick my landing so I think you win by default."

"You stuck your landing!" Elena countered, causing Damon to glance back down at her. "You just stuck it with your bicep."

Damon laughed. He liked this side of Elena. Underneath all of her stress and anxiety, she was clever, as though she'd been waiting to deliver all of her great comebacks for decades. She could keep up with him, even when that meant darting down a library's set of stairs for fun.

His phone cut him off from delivering a witty retort. Seeing Rose's name on the screen made the ringtone seem even more urgent than usual. He shot an apologetic glance at Elena, although it wasn't exactly like he'd interrupted anything. "Hey, sorry. I'm headed home now," he said into the receiver, almost immediately knowing what she was going to ask him.

"Oh, I assumed that, hun," she replied near cheerfully. Damon sighed, registering that her gathering had probably been fun enough to last into the wee hours of the morning. "I was just wondering if you could stop by the 24-hour market before you get back home and grab me some milk. We'll need it for Sunday brunch."

"Uh, yeah, sure. I'll see you in about half an hour."

"Thank you!" Rose cried, a click signaling she'd gotten her point across.

Damon shoved the phone in his back pocket after locking it. "I'm sorry I kept you out here so late," Elena murmured. "Your fiancée was probably worried about you."

Damon laughed. "Nah. Just the milk." Elena cocked her head in confusion, but he didn't bother to explain anything.

"Well, thank you for everything, Damon. Really. I probably would have had a full scale meltdown if it weren't for your calming influence."

"No problem. You clearly have some magical aura as well. I was able to get through my own work much more easily with you sitting next to me." Elena flushed a bit at his words. "Plus, out of that whole library, you were my first choice for the person I would tumble down a set of stairs with."

Elena let out a loud laugh. "Well, the only reason you fell was because I was letting you win. So I _guess_ I owe you an apology there." Damon's eyes widened in faux anger, but he couldn't keep the large smile off of his face.

"Goodnight, Elena," he nodded, ready to turn around and walk back to his awaiting car. If he hated awkward silences, he abhorred not knowing what the proper protocol was. Neither a hug nor a handshake seemed appropriate. Damon determined it was probably just best to walk away before it got uncomfortable.

"Goodnight, Damon." But before he could even pivot on his heel, she called after him. "And I just want to apologize for earlier… my abrasiveness." Now it was Damon's turn to tilt his head. Elena steadied herself for her next words. "People here haven't been… they typically aren't very nice to me. I just… I'm not used to it."

Damon wasn't sure what to offer her, other than a reassuring smile and another nod. It seemed to be enough and she turned to head towards what he could only assume was her dorm. Damon was stunned by her words. How anyone could be cruel to her was beyond him. He could see himself being nice to her for a very long while.

Too bad he wouldn't ever see her again.

**Quick sidebar: Yes, D&E might seem out of character right now, but note that this is only 2006. They still have a long way to go.**

**Like I said: if you're feeling wary of continuing, give it a chapter or two more. It will be in its rhythm by then :)**

**Oh and please leave your reviews: the good, the bad, but please not the ugly!**


	3. September 2006, Part Two

**Oh my goodness, Madison is actually going to finish this story. What a shocker :p.**

**Yes, hi I am FINALLY back after what has felt like forever. I will sincerely apologize for the delay in posting this chapter. I was/still am so motivated to write this story, but unfortunately hit one of the biggest roadblocks I have ever encountered. I hated how OOC everything has to be for the first little while, I hated every word of my writing, and I was just _convinced_ that this whole thing would just be an utter failure. So for weeks I refused to write. But now, my motivation is back and I've chosen to just have faith in my work. Plus, I missed writing for you all so, so much.**

**Alright, well most of you said that you like the long ANs so there's going to be a doozy of a one at the bottom. A lot is introduced in this chapter, but I do want to clarify some things before you read. 1) There is the _slightest_ hint of slut-shaming that occurs in this chapter. Please note that this belief SHOULD be considered misguided and wrong and you should feel sorry for the character that expresses those views. This is not something I believe in _at all_ and you should be able to pick up why this character feels that way. I promise that Elena will soon learn that it is wrong to think this way and I hope I never write something that comes off like that again. 2) There is some religion talk in this chapter. I highly suggest you read through the whole thing and then read my more thorough author's note at the bottom where I can help you understand why it's necessary. I will point out that this chapter, given its location, will be the _only_ chapter that discusses it to this high of a degree, but just a fair warning. I really hope that doesn't deter you in any way.**

**Okay, after all that seriousness, I really hope you enjoy this chapter. Please leave your reviews regardless!**

* * *

**September 2006, Part Two:**

"_Facing it, always facing it, that's the way to get through. Face it." – Joseph Conrad_

Elena nervously tugged on her skirt as she scurried up the steep steps of the church. She desperately wanted to swear as her new routine of makeup and hair was causing her to be incredibly late, but she was on holy ground now. Flinging open the heavy wooden door, she immediately regretted wearing heels. She hadn't considered the tiled floors and after only two steps into the sanctuary, all heads had already whipped around to her.

Elena flushed instantly, whispering an apology under her breath that only she could hear, and grabbed a nearby bulletin. Thankfully, it was only the prelude, but from the ill-amused faces of the congregation, she'd seriously disturbed whatever moment of peace they were having with their Lord. _Your_ Lord, she corrected. _Stop thinking like your parents for once._

It might have been late September, but the Southern heat was still in full effect and her rush to get to the service in time had caused beads of sweat to drip from her hairline. She clearly didn't have time to check her reflection in the mirror, but she was fairly sure the shoddy makeup job was for naught. Elena, trying to make as little noise as possible, sat down in the first available seat she could find. The church must have been popular given that the last two pews were the only places available.

Thankfully, the older woman sitting next to her gave her a smile rather than a glare as she clumsily settled into her seat. Elena brushed her long hair out of her face and smoothed the full skirt of her white dress down on her thighs, making the best effort to sit properly and only crossing her ankles. She took a deep breath and finally allowed herself her first real view of the room.

The sanctuary was much larger than she'd expected, with two side wings near the front hosting even more seating. It was clear that exorbitant amounts of money had been invested in the upkeep of the older building. Personal wealth must have been something valued amongst the church members.

_Different. Everything was just so different._

Although the whole point of Elena leaving home was to get away from a crippling religion, she'd learned over the past month or so that she couldn't just quit cold turkey. She knew enough about Christianity to like its message, or at least the message the "real world" followed. And with the severe amount of loneliness she'd been facing lately, she needed something comforting, something grounding. And so, much to the disgruntled chagrin of her roommate, Elena had woken up early, gotten as pretty as she possibly could, and made her way to the closest church near her dorm.

The sweat was becoming uncomfortable and noticeable as her body took its sweet time adjusting to the air-conditioned building. Elena fidgeted, already cringing at the idea of the sweat stains more than likely forming on her yellow cardigan. Every part of her wanted to remove the offending garment, but the cotton eyelet fabric of her dress only covered part of her shoulders. And it may have had a high, full neckline that rose to her collarbone, but it was stylized with only two straps to show off her back. It wouldn't be appropriate to expose that much skin in a church.

But maybe not. Of course, it's what _Elena_ had always been taught, but after glancing at the rest of the girls her age in the congregation, she realized her dress wouldn't even be _close_ to the most scandalous. She noted countless strapless necklines, many of which were low-cut enough to push the girls' cleavages out for display. One girl at the end of one of the rows closer to the pulpit had a hemline so short that Elena was convinced she couldn't bend over in it. While Elena had tried to look good for the occasion because it was respectable to show your best, these girls seemed to treat church as if it were a fashion show. Elena felt terrible for the men in the congregation. They must have been fighting so much sin when they only came to praise God.

Elena took a deep breath and her muscles tensed as she slowly slid the cardigan off of her shoulders and down her arms. She folded the fabric neatly in her lap and then placed it on top of her purse on the floor. Elena dared to look at the older woman next to her, expecting a judgmental glare, but the woman had barely seemed to notice. Or she must not have cared.

Elena felt her pulse race as it finally sunk in. What she'd been raised in, what she had always been told was right… it was the _complete_ antithesis of this church. She'd always known that her childhood religion had been wrong or at least misguided. But the more she sat in this normal church, the more she began to recognize her entire childhood as a lie. Elena swallowed, her throat unnaturally dry, as the intrinsic guilt began to kick in. _How dare you think that, _a voice in the back of her head spoke up (one that sounded oddly like her mother). _Your family's faith protected you from a cold, cruel world. Your ungratefulness and sin will only destroy you._

The congregation suddenly stood around her as one of the leaders had instructed. Elena weakly rose to her feet, her knees trembling as the pit of her stomach tightened. She had to get out of there. The idea of comfort she'd been so desperately seeking was never going to come from here. Religion had never been comfortable. It had only made her feel weak and worthless, ashamed of every last thought that had run through her head. The air-conditioning blasting on her exposed back felt taunting as words like _whore_ returned to her memory. All of the hate she'd been surrounded with filled her lungs, imagining all of the cruel things her father would insinuate about this group of privileged people. _They're worshipping the devil and they don't even know it, _he'd say in his gravely voice. _Satan had led them to believe that they can go on living as scum on the earth as long as they sing a few songs every Sunday._

Elena scrunched her eyes shut, trying to regain her breath. She was bending down to grab her belongings, prepared to race back to her dorm as fast as possible, when suddenly the aisle next to her was filled with a processing choir. The words of a familiar joyous hymn rang out amongst the lofted ceilings and stained glass windows. Elena gulped, knowing her exit plan was ruined. Her shaking hands and body made her wish she could just disappear.

"Would you like to share?"

Elena's head whipped around to the woman next to her. The words had come out as a whisper and she was raising the book like an offering. She had to be at least seventy-five years old, but her gentle eyes and kind smile were nothing like the elders from Elena's old church.

Elena took a shaky breath, delicately tugging on her skirt again as she reached with trembling fingers to grasp the left side of the hymnal. "Thank you," she whispered back. The woman winked at her, but her eyes quickly shifted back to the lines of music, almost immediately finding their place in the song. The woman's voice rang out loud and clear amidst the hundreds in the room. She wasn't very gifted, but the genuine effort she placed forward was vibrant.

Elena scanned the text, her eyes taking a bit more time to find the current position. She cleared her throat once she did locate the proper lyrics and, nervously, began to sing along. As she noticed before, the words were familiar. She was positive she'd sung them before back home. _So their hymns are the same, _Elena thought. _What does that even mean?_

As the service continued, Elena was able to find more similarities amidst all that was brand new. Those speaking were a bit more colloquial in tone, the pastor greeting the congregation with a big smile and offerings of peace and hope in the Lord, but his message wasn't too far off. There was God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit, but it lacked the hellfire and brimstone she was far too familiar with. Sin was bad and so was the devil, but those with good intentions and good hearts were going to be okay.

And although Elena was still wholly convinced that her religious beliefs had been ripped apart and she was only left with smoldering remains, she finally found that comfort which she'd been seeking. It was tenuous and fragile, but for just an hour, Elena could finally feel safe. She didn't feel so alone.

* * *

"Can you please look like you actually want to be here?" Rose whined, adjusting her headband in the mirror hung up in the parlor. Damon nursed the watered down lemonade she'd brought to him earlier, wishing they hadn't run out of coffee on a day like today. He made a mental note to grab Starbucks after they were done being "respectable members of the community."

"I'm not that good of an actor," Damon whispered mockingly, leaning over so that old Mrs. Washington wouldn't hear the blasphemous sarcasm.

Rose glanced over at him, unable to keep the smirk off of her face. She rolled her eyes, deciding instead to yank the headband out of her short hair and shove it into her large designer tote bag. "Look, when your mother's happy, _everyone's_ happy. Just remember that the next time you decide to continuously sigh through Elizabeth's physical therapy stories."

Damon smirked, leaning over to peck his fiancée on the lips, but before he could come even a few inches near her face, her head shot back.

"Not in church, Damon!" she clucked. Her head whipped around, checking for anyone who might be eavesdropping. When her gaze was focused back on him, she had a mischievous glint in her eye. "Save it for later." She punctuated her provocative words with a wink.

Damon gave a mocking glance, even though her words had left him affected. "Naughty girl," he shot back, eliciting a giggle.

Damon could finally find a reason to smile during this boring mandatory meet-and-greet. Rose had become the perfect partner-in-crime for these ridiculous societal standards he was required to partake in. It was partly because they'd had such similar backgrounds growing up and her family expected much of the same from her. But there were a million women from his hometown who had been shoved into charity dinners and family reunions at the country club. Yet Rose had managed to escape without becoming an uptight bitch.

Yes, her early pleas for him to maintain a semblance of polite interest had seemed nagging, but she'd only done them to avoid the long-term consequences. She spent most of these sorts of things whispering snide comments about the other women or dirty innuendos into his ear, making the events far more entertaining than they should be. She was a free spirit at heart, the frilled jacket and modest shift dress she was sporting for church a complete 180 from her typical wardrobe of jeans and thermals at home. She kept Damon in check enough to appease his parents while also satisfying his rebellious side, keeping him from wanting to jump off a cliff during boring galas and brunches. Rose kept him stable and, in turn, he let her be herself.

"Damon, Rose." Damon immediately felt the gentlemanly smile form on his face as Mrs. Parker approached them. Thankfully, this was an elderly woman who Damon _actually_ liked. She didn't bore him to tears with stories about her grandchildren or squeeze his cheeks to tell him how cute he was and what a fine young man he'd grown up to be. In fact, she was childless and had been living primarily on her own since her husband had died eight years ago. She was a sweetheart and Damon was actually happy she'd approached.

"Louise, you look wonderful this morning," he affirmed, leaning over to peck her wrinkled cheek.

"Oh hush you," she grumbled defiantly, allowing Rose to greet her in a similar fashion. "I don't need another young Southern gentleman complimenting me on my good looks. It becomes overwhelming." Damon and Rose both let out genuine laughs.

"I apologize. It must just sound like drivel at this point."

"Well of course, Mr. Salvatore. Next time, call me foxy. I'll remember it then."

"Your wish is my command," Damon replied with a wink.

"Well, in that case, I need you to be welcoming to someone I met this morning. She seems incredibly shy and out of place, but I think you two would make her feel more at ease. I can tell she has the same spunk deep down inside. Someone just needs to get it out of her."

"Certainly," Rose acquiesced, shooting a glance at Damon. "We'd be happy to welcome a visitor."

"Perfect." Mrs. Parker grinned. "Elena!"

Damon's eyes widened as the familiar brunette turned from her place at the snack table across the room. Her brown eyes were filled with the same shock as his were as she, too, made the connection. Nervously, she tucked her long brown hair behind one ear and rapidly approached the trio. As she got closer, Damon took in the delicate white dress that highlighted her olive skin and lithe figure as well as the crumpled up cardigan, purse, and flimsy cup of water in her hands.

"Oh, sweetheart, you can put your things down. Nobody's going to steal them," Mrs. Parker cajoled casually. Elena shot a weak smile, still completely unsure of what to do in such an awkward situation. She gracelessly plopped the sweater and bag on a nearby chair and placed the sweating cup on the end table.

"Damon, Rose, _this_ is Elena Gilbert. She's a first-year student at the university. Elena, this is Damon Salvatore and his fiancée Rose Abington. Damon is a lawyer at a local firm and Rose is an event planner at the club."

Elena looked hesitant to admit what was glaringly uncomfortable about the situation so Damon quickly cut in to help her out. "Well, well, well. If it isn't my midnight savior from the library…"

Both Rose and Mrs. Parker crinkled their eyebrows in confusion. "What do you mean? You two have met?" Rose asked, thankfully without a hint of possessive suspicion.

Elena again seemed to be fumbling for the right words so Damon clarified. "Yes, we have. Remember that night a few weeks ago where I was forced to do that absurd assignment from my boss?" Rose nodded in agreement and Mrs. Parker went along with it. "Well, Miss Elena here helped me not rip my hair out in frustration and miraculously put me at ease. I got the work done in half the time. I think she's part angel." He shot a wink at Elena as she flushed, Louise and Rose both laughing politely.

Damon had decided not to reveal her near-meltdown to the women, assuming it would only embarrass her. Nobody wanted to be introduced as the girl who could barely handle remedial math problems and needed some stranger in the library to put her on the right track. Damon knew she was smart and he hoped the other women would assume the same if they couldn't judge her.

"Well, clearly, my work here is done," Louise interjected. "Elena, dear. It was such a pleasure to meet you. I hope to see you next Sunday. If you'd like, I can save you a seat."

Elena nodded, still seemingly overwhelmed with the situation at hand. "Yes, that would be lovely," she replied courteously. "Thank you so much for your hospitality this morning."

"Of course, dear. You made it too easy." Louise then nodded at the couple in front of her. "Have a good week, you two. And don't scare the poor girl away."

After she had left, the newly formed trio stood there uncomfortably for a few seconds of awkward silence. Elena finally interjected, unable to handle it any longer.

"Rose, I love your outfit. Those pearls are incredible."

Rose's eyes instantly lit up, finally at ease with a topic she knew well. "Oh my gosh, thank you. I was just about to compliment you on your dress. Where did you get it?"

Elena faltered a bit, but it was easily unnoticeable. "Uh, it was a present from my aunt actually. I'm sorry. I don't remember what the tags say."

"Oh here, let me check," Rose replied, placing her own things down on another chair to come around behind Elena. Before she could examine the tag, Damon cut in.

"Well, this is clearly not talk for my manly self. Elena, would you like me to get you a refill?" His eyes were practically pleading her not to force him to stay there and listen to them discuss shopping.

Elena let out a slight giggle. "Of course, thank you."

"Rose?" Damon inquired.

"I'm fine. Thank you though, sweetheart." Her hands were already delicately slipping beneath the white eyelet fabric of Elena's dress.

Damon grabbed Elena's nearly empty cup from the table and crossed the room.

* * *

Elena's eyes followed him as he walked, still in complete disbelief over what had occurred. The odds had _not_ been in her favor to ever see Damon again and yet here he was, getting her water in a cheap cup for the second time that month. Her gaze immediately flipped back to Rose who had come around from her back to face her again.

"Well, you're a lucky niece. Those dresses are _obscenely_ expensive," Rose noted, without a hint of jealousy or judgment. Not surprising given that Rose's ensemble looked like something off of a runway.

Elena politely smiled. She liked Rose. Not that she'd been ever given any reason to dislike her. She seemed very self-aware how stilted and formal this event was and she watched her cast a glare or two at a girl with a large slit in her dress. "You know, your fiancé is too modest." Rose turned her attention back to Elena, an eyebrow quirked in confusion. "He was the one helping me. I was about to have a breakdown before he sat down next to me and walked me through something."

Rose smiled, her eyes lighting up. Elena had seen enough contraband movies and television shows that continually painted the significant others as overly jealous and possessive, but she seemed genuinely happy for Elena. "Yeah, well he's something special," Rose replied sincerely. Elena did notice a flicker of something in her eyes as her gaze drifted over to her fiancé, but it was gone too quickly for Elena to determine what it was. "This university's hard though. Don't put yourself down too much if you struggle, _especially_ as a first-year."

Elena grimaced and, by the look on Rose's face, it hadn't been subtle. "Yeah, well, I think the whole 'homeschooling' thing screwed me over. I feel like I'm drowning in every subject. I'm surprised they even let me in."

"Overprotective parents?" Rose asked knowingly.

Elena almost spilled her guts, but thought better of it. Rose was just starting to like her and Elena feared what she'd think of her once that glaringly sketchy detail came out. "Uh, yeah. You could say that."

Rose nodded and Elena could see the wheels turning in her head. "Have you thought about getting a tutor?"

Elena scoffed. "My aunt may buy me an expensive dress occasionally, but that doesn't mean I have nearly enough money to be tutored."

"Does the school not offer free help?" Rose questioned.

Elena flushed. "Well yeah. But it's a little embarrassing to be tutored by your peers. I went to a help center once and the guy they assigned me nearly laughed me out of the room."

The glint was back in Rose's eye and a knowing smirk formed on her face. "Well, then I know just the thing. Something that will benefit both of us." Rose winked as confusion settled over Elena's own features.

"What do you mean?" Elena asked. Right at that moment, Damon returned with Elena's drink and handed it to her with a grin.

"Elena, meet your new tutor," Rose cried, patting her hand on Damon's shoulder.

"What?!" Elena held back a small giggle at the fact that she and Damon had both replied in unison to Rose's insane statement, mostly because she was still in shock.

"Look, you need a tutor and Damon's genius is _clearly_ not being tapped into enough at work. You said he was super helpful last time and he's not going to humiliate you if you give the wrong answer." The woman then turned to Damon. "And remember how your mother was forcing me to drag you to a soup kitchen every week? _This_ can replace her psychotic need to make you do community service all of the time. Tutoring a girl at the local college? She gets to brag about your benevolent soul _and_ your superior intelligence to all the women at the club. It's a win-win for everybody." Rose's grin lit up her whole face.

"Wait, how do _you_ win in this situation?" Damon inquired dubiously.

"Um, I don't have to hear you bitch about serving stew to homeless men whose only job is to masturbate publicly!" Suddenly a gasp sounded from an elderly woman walking by and Rose's entire face lit up in alarm. "Um, okay. Why don't you two talk it out while I go convince Mrs. Lancaster I'm not a complete disgrace to society?"

Abruptly, Rose was halfway across the room, desperately pleading for forgiveness and Elena and Damon were stuck to deal with the aftermath of Rose's "genius" idea.

Elena took one look at Damon's uncomfortable expression and realized he had zero to no desire to actually do what his fiancée suggested. She decided to take him out of his misery. "Look, Damon. It's very sweet for Rose to suggest that, but clearly you owe me nothing. I'll be fine."

"Why did she offer it?" Damon asked. "You didn't have to say what really happened in the library. I was trying to make it less awkward for you."

"And I appreciate it!" Elena's hand shot out to grab Damon's forearm. "Really, Damon. You're too kind."

Damon's eyes shot down to where Elena's fingers were lightly latched into his skin and then back into her imploring eyes. "Are you really not doing well?" His voice was filled with genuine concern as though she'd just revealed she'd been diagnosed with some horrible disease.

"I'm fine," Elena replied too quickly. Damon's eyebrow immediately quirked in disbelief. Elena let out a sigh, her voice lowering naturally as she removed her shaky hand from his arm. "Okay, well maybe I'm failing a little."

"Failing?!" Damon shot back and Elena's eyes pleaded with him to lower his voice as well. "Sorry, I just… I didn't realize you were doing that horribly."

Elena crossed her arms over her chest, her defensive side flaring. "Hey, I'm trying to give you an out. You looked like you were more willing to gouge your eyeballs out than help me when your future wife offered you up."

Damon's eyes widened at her abrupt turn-about. Yeah, polite little miss Elena was gone in a heartbeat and she was back to the spitfire he'd encountered in the library. "I wasn't _irritated_ with the offer. I was just… surprised."

"Yeah, well. It's not really either of you two's concern whether I'm doing well in school so I'd appreciate if the both of you chose not to be so nosy about it."

"Hey, Rose was just being polite. You said yourself five seconds ago that she was sweet for suggesting it. Just because you're insecure about your grades doesn't mean you have to be rude to her."

Elena balked. "Insecure?! This isn't insecurity! It's me wondering why the heck some strange grown man that I barely know is so invested in what's going on in _my_ life especially after he tried to… hit on me in the library!"

"Hit on you?!" Damon let out a disbelieving laugh. "I already told you I was just being nice! Why do you have such a problem-"

"Woah, guys," Rose hissed as she returned back to the dueling pair, her expression half pleasant as to ward off their nosy witnesses and half frustrated with their display. "Your little _quarrel_ is starting to gain some attention. What in the world is going on?!"

Elena huffed, suddenly grabbing her things from the chair and smashing down her cup of nearly full water and sloshing some down on the wooden table. "_Nothing_ is going on. Thank you for the offer, but I don't need anybody's charity." Elena pivoted on her heel and exited the parlor, anger rushing through her veins.

Clearly, she'd walked into the wrong church.

* * *

Damon finally found Elena near the middle of the empty campus about fifteen minutes later. The second she'd walked out of the parlor, Rose had dragged him outside to the empty courtyard, demanding he tell her what had happened. After he'd explained, Rose had groaned, convinced that she was to blame for Elena's sudden outburst.

"Go find her!"

"Um, clearly she doesn't want our help. Just let it go, Rose."

"We made her feel like a _charity case_ after knowing her for five minutes. Of course she didn't want to be a part of it. People like us are the reason why people hate churches so much. Mrs. Parker will kill us if we tell her Elena's never coming back to church after a three minute conversation!"

"Really? Mrs. Parker will _kill_ us?" Rose delivered a hard slap to his chest at his condescension and Damon gasped. "Did you just hit me in church?!"

"We're not _in_ church," she replied back haughtily. "We're in the _courtyard_ of a church." Damon was ready to spit back a retort, but she called him out. "Damon, I swear to… just go get her. She couldn't have gotten that far and she's more than likely just heading to the freshmen housing on the southern part of campus! Tell her how sorry we are and make her _believe_ it, or else I will force you to go that soup kitchen every other day." Damon groaned at her pestering and her voice softened in response. "Look, I'm sorry to become _that_ kind of girlfriend, but your parents have both of us on a tight leash right now. We're not exactly in their good graces and it will be better for both of us if we don't screw up church, too. So please-"

"Fine." Damon didn't completely agree with his fiancée. He still thought Elena's abrupt anger was uncalled for and that she should have been _far_ more grateful for their help, but if it made Rose and his parents happy, he would acquiesce.

So he'd found himself driving through all of the streets that led up to the area where he'd remember the freshmen housing being located. It hadn't taken too long to locate her thankfully but by the look on her face, she wouldn't be thrilled to see him. Not that he expected anything less than her most vile.

Damon pulled over into a nearby service driveway and parked the car, hoping that he wouldn't get towed given the odd hour. "Elena," he called out, willing his voice to not come out impatiently. The brunette's head whipped around to where he was standing, her feet halting in their rushed pace. Damon swore under his breath as he noticed the one or two tears that escaped her eyes.

"Hey, I just wanted to apologize for what happened back there. Rose, too. Sometimes…" Damon faltered for the right words. "Sometimes, our best intentions come out _completely_ wrong. We never wanted you to feel like a charity case. We just wanted to help." Damon tried a smile. "Remember… 'nice guy syndrome?'"

Elena shook her head rapidly. "No, Damon. I'm sorry. I treated you two horribly when you were being way too nice to me. It's not an excuse but it was just a really… _new_ day. I mean, your church is _so_ different from the one I attended back home and then you were being so nice to me and I took out my frustrations on you. I got so worked up and just embarrassed you in front of all of those people… You were fine. It was _all_ me."

Damon wasn't exactly sure what to say, especially now that most of his previous irritation was gone after her honest explanation. Elena just looked sad and confused, like a typical freshman that was overwhelmed by life. He remembered it clearly, and better yet, he remembered a sobbing Rose at three in the morning a few weeks into college who was begging Damon to make her "not a grown-up anymore." Sure, it would have been a lot better if Elena hadn't decided to ream him out in front of a good percentage of his congregation but he felt the need to comfort her… again.

"Your home church is really that different, huh?" He asked, coming a bit closer to her.

Elena scoffed. "You have _no_ idea."

Damon took a deep breath as he prepared himself for his next words. "Look, Elena. I _promise_ I'm not pitying you." Elena gave him a doubtful look. "Okay, I'm pitying you a little," Damon conceded. "Come on, you look like a damn puppy dog right now." Elena let out a laugh at his meek attempt of humor. "But I am genuinely offering my help if you want it. I can walk you through most of your subjects, help you study, explain some concepts…" He noticed her face grow weary at his suggestions. "_Or_… I could just sit next to you and make sure you don't have a stage 4 breakdown. I wouldn't say a word, I swear."

Elena laughed again, sniffling back some tears. "Are you telling me you _don't_ enjoy comforting me while I cry? I thought we had formed a new tradition given that I've cried both times I've been in your presence."

Damon laughed. "And she's back." He replied sarcastically, but he couldn't help but sport a matching grin. "Look, all I'm saying is that I'd be _honored_ to be your 'library buddy.' Even if it's just for a few weeks or so."

Elena bit her lip, her wary eyes examining him as if she was verifying his sincerity. After about twenty seconds, she finally gave her answer.

"Why not?"

**So, what are we thinking? Honesty is best, I promise. Like I said above, I have a lot to talk about. Personally, I think it's important if you're considering continuing with this fic, but I obviously can't force you to read it all. But I do want to clarify, warn, prepare, etc. you all so that you can have the best reading experience possible.**

**1) Angst. Clearly right now there's not much going on plot-wise. (This would be why I struggled so much with writer's block.) I like lots of action and lots of drama and believe me, there's PLENTY of it coming. But we obviously have to set up the characters and their backgrounds so that they have a reason to be on a journey together. So if you feel like you're falling asleep, please remember that the drama is coming. I guarantee it.**

**On that note, for those of you that don't like angst, I suggest you run. Not that I'm trying to shove any of my readers away, but I have to tell you now that there is going to be an _exorbitant_ amount of angst in this fic. Like way more than YBR. The only thing I can compare it to is The Story of Us. PLEASE NOTE THAT I DO NOT THINK I HAVE ANYWHERE NEAR THE SAME WRITING CAPABILITIES AS THAT BEAUTIFUL FIC. I'm just saying on the angst-o-meter, this is around where that story would rank. You all have seen part of the endgame of this story (the prologue) but we will return and continue on from that moment after we get through the nearly six years that pass in this story. So know that there will be a lot of imperfect characters screwing up, both accidentally and on purpose, and Damon and Elena will be the cause of each other's happiness _and_ each other's hurt. **

**So, once again, don't be fooled by the "fluffiness" that is occurring right now. We still haven't even gotten, plot-wise, to the _summary_ of the story yet ;)**

**2) OOC-ness. This is kind of along the same lines as what I mentioned above. Damon and Elena probably seem pretty out of character at the moment and that's okay. I swear on my life that they will become what they are on the show at some point. Right now, Elena is _totally_ clouded by her very naive, very sheltered and misguided upbringing and Damon is, in my mind, very much like 1864 Damon is. He's planning a perfect future and trying to do his best to please his family, but he still has that same spunk and "naughtiness" that's inherent to the Damon Salvatore character. But the entire plotline of this fic revolves around Damon and Elena losing their innocences, so to speak, and how as they grow up and become more realistic and experienced, their personalities evolve. In a sense, the characters kind of _have_ to be OOC in order for them to grow and develop into what they truly are.**

**(Also, I don't know about you, but I was getting tired of reading the same old fics where Damon and Elena continually follow the same tropes and stay in their same stereotypical character types. But maybe that's just me.)**

**3) Religion. As I said in the beginning, this will more than likely be the chapter with the largest amount of religious dialogue. I, personally, am really intrigued by religion and all of its technicalities, so I was really interested to see what a very strict religion would do to a character like Elena. I mean, these characters _are_ in the South. It's almost unavoidable. So for those you that are already turned off by the religion talk, the good news is is that the worst is over. Bad news is that it _is_ something that will affect Elena throughout the course of the story. It's part of her basic character background and will cause a minor amount of conflict in the future. I really don't intend to alienate believers and I don't intend to alienate non-believers, but I did want to explore this topic as a writer. So will you never see religion discussed again? No. Is this the worst of it? Definitely.**

**(Also, these are not necessarily my personal beliefs nor do I expect they are any of yours. Much of what Elena expressed above is meant to make the reader feel uncomfortable and realize that she has been brought up in a very strict, very misguided upbringing. This is where Elena's innocence and naivety stem from.)**

**OKAY SO I'M FINALLY DONE TALKING WOO. But in all seriousness, I really think the above needed to be expressed so that you all can understand. I feel like all of that was a big downer so let me just reaffirm how FLIPPING EXCITED I am for this story. I promise, I'm not going to try to make this really deep and metaphorical and all that. I just really wanted to stretch myself as a writer. I can guarantee you lots of Damon and Elena cuteness, Damon and Elena fights, Damon and Elena sexy times, Damon and Elena love, and Damon and Elena with A CHILD. (Guys, I'm so excited for the introduction of Henry you have NO idea.)**

**If you need more motivation to read, I'm going back to weekly updates! Well, for a little while. I'm on a social media fast until the end of March so I have a lot more time to be writing!**

**So leave me a review letting me know if you plan to stick with me or not and OF COURSE what you thought of the chapter.**

**I love you all so much and hope you have a great week!**


	4. October 2006

**October 2006**

_I'm quiet you know_  
_You make a first impression_  
_I've found I'm scared to know I'm always on your mind_

"Damon, seriously. This isn't funny anymore." Elena whispered. The library was fairly vacant that night, only a grad student or two on the outskirts who were hopefully too wrapped up in their studies to notice the random girl wandering around the stacks looking for her unofficial tutor.

Elena twisted around to a new row of books, all of which had weird Chinese symbols on them to indicate their subject. Elena was starting to grow paranoid that Damon had actually just left her. He'd gotten up to take a phone call, but his new favorite hobby had been to jump up from behind and scare her. Elena had gone to the lounge where the elevators were since he typically took calls there, but it had been totally empty. Now she was left wandering the library's fifth floor alone, looking for the guy who was supposed to be helping her with her studies.

Elena began making her way back to where her belongings were. Damon had been tutoring her for a few weeks now, but maybe he hadn't grown as attached as she had. Maybe there was an emergency that forced him to leave without saying goodbye. But it seemed very odd that he wouldn't even text her. Abandoning her didn't seem like something he was apt to do.

But Elena's selfish thoughts halted when she crossed into an aisle filled with psychology books. There was the man she'd been desperately searching for, but he was instead seated on the floor, knees bent with feet flat on the dirty linoleum, his stare straight ahead as though he was trying to see through the books. But what was scarier was the complete absence of emotion in his eyes. If it weren't for his steady, shallow breathing and the subtle rise and fall of his strong chest, she would have thought he was dead.

Elena didn't hesitate, sliding down directly next to him, her side knocking into his gently as if she needed to alert him of her presence. She didn't dare say a word, feeling as if breaking the fragile air with speech would shatter more than just the silence.

"She's pregnant," Damon spoke, the monotone of his voice producing chills down Elena's spine. "Rose is going to have a baby and I'm going to be a father."

Elena took a shaky breath. "You don't want kids?" She asked. She'd sworn he'd talked about his love of family before.

Damon let out a thin laugh. "Yeah. This one's just coming about five years too early." He paused, placing his phone down next to his left hip and then returning to his original position. "I'm not ready for this."

"Come on," Elena placated. "Nobody thinks they're ready to be a parent. Nobody is. It will just come naturally."

Damon hesitated, his tone unsettling as he delivered his next words. "You know what I said to my fiancée when she told me I was going to be a _daddy_? I said 'Fuck.' I said it twice, too, as if I wanted to _double_ how shitty of a husband I'll be. I can't wait to tell my kid how I immediately wished his mom had just misread the test results. Can't wait to tell him that I still do."

Elena was shocked by how sharp his words were. "Damon, you _want_ a kid. It's just sucky timing." Damon shook his head back and forth, but Elena grasped his forearm, intent on shaking him out of his self-deprecation. "_You want a kid_. You want to be a dad. You want a cute little baby with pudgy everything who gives an earth-shattering squeal and a huge grin every time you walk in the room." Elena watched as a small smile formed on his face. "Maybe a little girl that abhors the fluffy dresses your mom shoves on her because she's secretly a tomboy. Maybe a little boy that abhors the seersucker suits your mom shoves on him because he desperately wants to wear fluffy dresses." Damon let out a genuine laugh and Elena couldn't help but match it with a giggle. "Hey, it could happen!"

Elena slowly ran her nails up and down the exposed skin of his forearm, his button down having been rolled up to his elbow. She considered that she was mistaken, but she thought she might have heard the lightest groan from him as her fingers provided the soothing sensation of delicate scratches, running through the masculine dark hair. "But it won't matter because he or she will be yours. A child with _Rose_. You are going to fall madly in love with your baby because that's just the kind of person you are. And you're going to be an amazing father. Plus, if your kid asks, I'll swear on my grave that the first thing you said when you learned about her existence was 'Dear god, I'm the luckiest man on earth.'"

Damon turned his gaze to her for the first time since she'd sat down. "That's pretty hopeful to think you're gonna be allowed to be a part of my kid's life." He replied with a smirk on his face.

Elena balked. "Just for that, I'm going to tell her you _also_ ripped all of your clothes off and ran down the street screaming about it."

Damon's smile grew a little more playful as his gaze became more intense. "You're pretty convinced it's going to be a girl, aren't you?"

Elena nodded, her mouth suddenly feeling slightly dry at his hot stare. "Yeah. Definitely a girl."

Elena hoped the shudder she produced wasn't too obvious as she recognized just how close their faces and bodies were. Looking down, her nails that had once been scraping delicate patterns were now lightly digging into his arm and she wondered if she might leave a dent in his flawless pale skin. A small part of her almost hoped she did. She abruptly decided leaving her mark in him wouldn't be that terrible. Almost subconsciously, her nails dug in tightly and she heard a sharp hiss in her ear. Elena quickly yanked her hand away, placing it on the rolled up sleeve of his shirt and gasped as she saw the scant amount of blood gradually rising from one of the nail marks. "I'm sorry," she whispered, apologetic eyes meeting his own. But he didn't seem too concerned with the wound.

"It's fine," he replied hoarsely. Apparently he was suffering from the same dry throat that had ailed Elena earlier. "It doesn't hurt."

Elena was now completely sure she'd lost her mind, her gaze completely locked in his. Now her fingers played with the smooth fabric of his shirt, but she barely noticed it, still in awe of the newness of the situation. Never in her life had she been this close to a man and she was completely blown away by how a public location could feel so intimate.

"Elena-" Damon whispered.

"Congratulations," she interjected, the only word that she seemed to be able to form. And although it had been intended for the previous baby news, she could barely remember what had gotten them to this location let alone the name of his fiancée.

Damon blinked in surprise. "Thank-" But before he could finish his sentiment, Elena had lurched forward, meeting her lips with his own. She had no clue where the desire had stemmed, but she hadn't given it a second thought once it had occurred.

It took Damon a few moments to respond, but once he did, Elena finally found the fire she'd been expecting. Damon's hand reached around, mussing her hair as he grabbed the base of her head and held her to him. Elena fisted the fabric of his shirt, opening her mouth at the first insistent lick of his tongue against the seam of her lips. The sparks produced by their heated kiss significantly dulled the flashing warning signs of her conscience. Elena would have been embarrassed by the amount of noise they were making if she was capable of caring about anything else. But as Damon yanked her forward and into his half-formed lap, Elena realized she wouldn't be able to think of anything beyond Damon until she was a solid twenty feet away from him.

Damon's kisses moved from her lips across her jaw line and cheeks as though he were tracing a line that only he could see. Elena shivered when his hot breath reached her ear, but his next words shocked her out of her delirious lust-centered haze.

"Wake up."

Elena's head shot back, as his hand gripped her shoulder, steadily shaking it. "What?" She groggily replied, her eyelids starting to feel heavy. The warm wetness that had once been on her lips had all but disappeared and they now felt dry and cold.

All of the heat that had previously been in his eyes was gone and instead he had the sincere grin she was far more used to. "Come on, Elena. _Wakey wakey."_

Elena shot up from the dated couch, her breath shallow as she began to discern the difference between what was reality and what she'd been convinced was reality for the past ten to fifteen minutes. Damon's gaze was curious, but there was nothing indicating that he knew what the dream world had had her so invested in.

"You alright? Sorry to wake you up, but you _insisted_ you could only have a nap for half an hour. I was just doing my duty as your library buddy."

"Um, that's fine," Elena replied, her hands going to smooth out her clearly mussed hair. She swore she could still feel the heat from his grip on her.

Elena finally recognized her location: the library lounge. As if to punctuate her discovery, a ding sounded from across the small room. A tall, blonde undergrad and her equally blonde friend came out smiling, but the second they caught a glance at the pair near the couches, their grins faded into frowns. Elena fought the urge to roll her eyes. The stereotypical jealousy she'd encountered thanks to her newfound partnership with Damon was absurd. The most romantic their relationship had ever been had just occurred in another universe. Those beautiful blondes had no clue what they were judging. And they also probably had a better shot than Elena if Damon wasn't so damn devoted to his fiancée. Elena blinked at her sudden animosity for a woman she'd never had an issue with before. Apparently, she'd carried over the jealousy of her hussy alter ego from the dream.

Damon lifted a coffee towards her face that she grabbed at gratefully. "Let me guess… stress dream?" Elena's eyebrow quirked as she took her first sip. "Whenever I'm super stressed about something, my dreams that night are really twisted. You look pretty freaked right now."

Elena swallowed, willing her face not to give away just how "freaky" her dream had been. "Uh, yeah. I guess it was pretty weird." She battled with whether she should tell him about the PG-aspect of the dream, but she determined there would be too many questions if she explained. "But we should get back to it." Elena stood up as Damon led the way back to their study room. They'd nabbed it earlier that evening, but after six hours and still far too much to be anxious over, Elena had decided she would need to take advantage of the library's new 24/7 policy. She'd taken the nap to help her get through it and Damon had promised to stay for a few more hours before he'd head back home.

Plopping down at the table, a lurch formed in Elena's stomach as she glanced at the same flash cards that had earlier nearly brought her to tears. "Breathe, Elena," Damon spoke calmly. "I'll make you go back to your dorm if you start to get freaked out again."

Elena's fearful gaze snapped over to his. "I'm serious. You're already exhausted and you know I don't approve of this all-nighter you're trying to pull. It's only going to screw you over on your exam. _But_ I'll let you make this crappy decision as long as you can hold yourself together. A breakdown indicates you're not going absorb anything else." Damon grabbed her chin, ripping Elena's gaze from the flashcards they'd wandered back to. "Elena, can you handle this or do you want to leave?"

Elena gulped, feeling her muscles tense under the combination of stress and his intense stare. "I'll be fine," she replied shakily. Damon probably didn't believe her as he released her jaw, but as long as she could hold it together for the next few hours, he wouldn't have any reason to send her back to her room.

"Alright, get ready." Damon swiped the cards into one pile, shuffling them a bit in order to test her knowledge further. Elena took a strong gulp of the coffee he'd provided and braced herself, taking a deep breath to get her mind in the right place. "Telegraph."

"Invention that made communication easier during the Civil War."

"Stonewall Jackson."

"Confederate general during the Civil War. Given the nickname because his troops at the first Battle of Bull Run stood like a stonewall."

"Minie Ball"

"Bullet designed with a hollow base that expanded when fired. Made for better accuracy and more casualties during the war."

Elena and Damon continued on until the nearly eighty cards were done. Thankfully, she only stumbled over a few. Of course, that was the easy part.

"I want you to write everything you know about artillery and weapons in the Civil War on this piece of paper," Damon stated, placing a torn out sheet of notebook paper in front of her. Elena looked at him pitifully. "Hey, it's one of your possible essay topics. This will help you be prepared in case it's on the exam."

Elena let out a deep sigh, grumbling a bit under her breath as she scribbled down whatever came to mind. She hated nearly every subject she was taking, but this was definitely one of the worst. Next to her, Damon was massaging his forehead subtly and Elena felt a twinge of guilt shoot through her bones. If anything was going to motivate her to work, it was the obscenely generous man who was wasting his time sitting here with overly dramatic and disappointing her.

After about fifteen minutes of regurgitating the information she'd memorized, Damon suddenly leaned over into her personal space. Elena visibly flinched at how close he was and Damon chuckled. "The two ironclad ships in the rivalry were the Monitor and the _Merrimac_." He scratched away whatever nonsense name she'd written down to replace it with the correct one. "Okay, what did I do wrong?" Damon sighed.

"What do you mean? I'm glad you told me the right answer."

"Okay, but why did you just flinch like I was going to hit you or something?"

"I didn't flinch," she replied, the lie causing her cheeks to flush. Elena had noticed the clear cringe because she did it nearly every time he came too close to her.

Damon rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you did. And you do it a lot now. Did I say something to offend you or hurt your feelings and you're just not telling me?"

"No, Damon. The exam-"

"Elena, you're going to do fine. You've been shoving so much information into your skull the past few hours I'm pretty sure you might explode. Now tell me what's up."

Elena gulped, feeling more heat rise to her face as she considered what to tell him. The recent dreams weren't the cause, but they definitely weren't helping. She'd only had a few, but they were steamy enough to be _quite_ memorable. Elena had realized after only about three study sessions with Damon that she had a crush on him, but she'd passed it off as something silly. But ever since the development, any time he got within a few inches of her or touched her in anyway, she recoiled. And she had no idea how to explain that to him.

"I just… wasn't around guys my age back home a lot. Never this close, that is."

Damon furrowed his brows. "Do I intimidate you or something?" He asked nervously. He only had a vague understanding that she'd been brought up by strict parents, but nothing more.

"No! Well, kind of. I don't know. I guess I'm just… nervous?" Elena fumbled for the right words. She didn't want Damon to feel uncomfortable around her and she _definitely_ didn't want him knowing about her stupid feelings.

Damon slowly nodded, although his eyes indicated the confusion that was still present. "Look, I don't know what your parents instilled in you back home, but I promise: I'm never going to hurt you."

"I don't think you're gonna hurt me, Damon." Elena mentally swore as she felt some tears prick at her eyes. This wasn't even an emotionally draining conversation, but her overly exhausted body was making it one. She tried to blink them away, but Damon noticed.

"Alright, time to go," he said firmly, beginning to gather her study materials for her.

"Damon, no. Please! I need to study more!"

"Elena," he paused in his repacking. "You're going to be fine. You _need_ to sleep. You're at the point where nothing is going to stick if you stay up any later. I swear, you're going to do well on the exam but not if I let you stay here when you're clearly ready to pass out."

Damon leaned over to brush a stray strand of her hair out of her face and Elena, unknowingly, recoiled once again. He sighed, a flicker of disappointment crossing his eyes at the negative effect he held over her and it made Elena want to cry again. She hated that he thought she was terrified of him when it really only stemmed from her absurd attraction and bizarre upbringing. "Come on," he said somberly. "I'll walk you back."

Damon had walked her back to her dorm a few times since they'd started studying together and it always ended up being the best part of her evening. As Elena helped him put away the rest of her stuff, though, she decided she was going to make the walk a far more uncomfortable one that night. She had to help him understand why she was so screwed up. She was going to tell him about her home.

It took about fifteen minutes to get to the freshmen dorms so Elena assumed she'd be able to get enough of it out. Once they exited the library, Elena took a deep breath and prepared herself to tell a story she'd never once told before.

"Damon, I feel like you should know more about what I went through at home."

Damon, who had been silent as they'd left, turned his focus to her, his hands shoved in his jean pockets. "Elena, you don't have to feel obligated to tell me anything."

"I know that, but you deserve to know why I flinch every time you get near me and why I'm so terrible at really basic stuff." As they approached an intersection, Elena braced herself for her next words, pausing on the sidewalk. "Damon, I was in a cult."

Damon came to a screeching halt in the middle of the street, whipping his entire body around to her. "A _what_?!" Right then, a blaring horn sounded as a car came fast approaching. Thankfully, it was far enough away that Damon could race back onto the sidewalk, but it didn't mean the guy in the car was any less pissed off at Damon's mistake.

"Get out of the road!" The car sped past them, as both Damon and Elena tried to catch their breaths from the frightening encounter.

"Are you alright?" Elena asked, although she could clearly see that there was no physical damage to him.

"You were in a _cult_?" Obviously, he was done talking about the near-accident.

Elena sighed as they continued to walk, given the now empty street. "Well, I guess _cult_ isn't the right word. Just a really strict orthodox community."

Damon let out a long breath. "Yeah, okay. Next time you use this story, don't use the term _cult_ so sparingly."

Elena smirked, tightening her grip on her bag. "Alright. Well anyways, it was a very small town and everybody went to the same church. The pastor was basically a _tyrant_ and he took what he believed very seriously and made sure his congregation did, too."

Damon nodded. "Okay, so what did that mean for you?"

"It meant… wearing really cheap and very modest clothing. No makeup, no dressing up or being cute. My parents were especially into what was being taught and decided I couldn't even go to the community school that followed all of the same guidelines the church did. I was required to be constantly obedient, never speak unless spoken to, and absolutely zero interaction with boys or men except for family and my pastor." A small smile lit up Elena's face. "There was one thing I cheated on, though."

"Oh, I'm very curious about this." Damon replied impishly.

Elena chuckled. "I wasn't allowed to watch any television or movies or go on the Internet. But… I would say I was going to the neighboring town to serve at a shelter. Instead I had made friends with a girl who had _all_ of that stuff. And every other day I would watch tons of television and movies and just figure out what the rest of the world was doing." Elena hesitated on the next part, already fearing his reaction. "That's when I realized I wanted to be an actress."

She decided to bite the bullet and see what Damon's face gave away. Any other time she'd expressed her "big dreams" to anyone else, they typically just gave her a dubious expression, or at least one that indicated that they knew better. But Damon was smiling, nodding his head.

"Makes sense. You're _quite_ the drama queen."

Elena reached out, smacking his arm. "Ow!" Damon laughed, rubbing the area she'd hit. "I'm kidding. Seriously, I think that's cool. You're actually trying to get out of here."

Elena nodded fiercely. "Yep. The second I can leave this place, the second I'm going to LA and never looking back." She paused, frowning. "Basically every other kid in my town never got to experience the sort of stuff I did. When they go on their leave, they're so overwhelmed by what the real world is truly like that they come running back. They're terrified of it, and the adults know that. It's why they let them leave in the first place. To make them stay in the long-run."

"What's a leave?" Damon asked.

"Um… do you know what a rumspringa is?" Elena asked.

"Is that what the Amish do?"

"Yeah, exactly. Well, I guess our community just kind of stole it. We're allowed to go to college away from the community and then at the end of it, we can decide which world we prefer. Like I said, though, I'll be in the minority when I never come back."

"Do you hate them?" Elena's eyes widened as she shot her gaze to him. She knew exactly what he was asking, but she wasn't sure how to respond. She didn't know the answer for herself.

"I… I don't know. I think I'm just angry about it in general. I mean, the reason I'm drowning in the most _basic_ subjects here is because they knowingly withheld certain material from me so that I would struggle. And when I get invited to parties by people on my hall, I tell them I can't go because I'm legitimately terrified of drunk people or that some weird guy is going to kiss me and I'm going to be totally unprepared. But… my parents were screwed over just like I was. They think it's right because when they went on their leaves, they thought the world was scary and awful, too. Plus, I think they were scared enough to do everything in their power to make me want to come back."

Damon paused in his steps and Elena followed his motion. "So you like the real world?" The way he asked the question was to tease, but she noticed a sincerity in his eyes that indicated his genuine interest.

"I don't know yet," Elena replied honestly. "I know I don't like _college_… at least not yet. I like wearing nice clothes that my aunt sends me and actually doing things to make myself look decent. I like not feeling horribly ashamed every time a bad thought runs through my head or I really, _desperately_ need to swear. I like being around lots of people who are different than me. I like _you_." Elena flushed instantly as Damon quirked his eyebrow. "I mean, I'm just glad I met you. You've been so nice to the girl everyone avoids just because she's an idiot who always has botched makeup and won't be social because she's too scared of everything."

A sad smile crossed Damon's features as he came closer to her. "First of all, you're going to love college someday. You just got screwed over for the past eighteen years and were taught to hate it. You'll get into the rhythm of it soon enough. Just give it some more time. Secondly, I know you're a good person regardless of the occasional crappy thought and adorably awkward swear word." Elena smiled. "And finally, and I'll swear on my grave I never said this to you if you go around bragging about it, but you're a very pretty girl. And I don't just tell anybody that."

Elena almost felt like the wind got knocked out of her. She tried to calm herself with rational thoughts. _It's innocent, Elena. He's just a nice guy. He would have said that even if Rose were standing right next to him_. But a much larger and louder part of her brain was screaming over the fact that Damon had called her pretty.

"You know you're the only person that's ever told me that," Elena murmured.

An unusual sentiment flashed across Damon's features. "Yeah, well, if you'd been living in the 'real world' your entire life, I would _definitely_ not be the first." Damon pushed the lone strand of hair that had fallen out behind her ear. "And there would and _should_ be guys lining up and down the block to get rid of your 'kissing' fears."

Elena wasn't sure what compelled her to say it. Maybe it was because she was excessively tired and not thinking properly. Maybe it was because of how overwhelmingly sweet Damon had been to her. Or maybe she was just completely crazy.

But she did know that when Damon had pushed away that strand of hair, his finger lightly skimming her cheek as he did so, she hadn't flinched or stiffened at all. She had felt totally at ease.

And maybe that's what made her ask her next question.

"So why don't you?"

**Apologies for any mistakes in here. I'm uploading this with very minimal review and late at night. Thank you so much for your support and please leave reviews!**


	5. October 2006, Part Two

**Hello again! I'm really excited to put up a new chapter for you that really throws the story into the action. I feel like this fic has been fairly boring so far, so to write something like this was really fun for me. It's definitely a pivotal chapter and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did while writing it.**

**I'll leave a longer note at the bottom to talk some things out, but for right now, I'll let you read. Please send in your reviews and thank you so much for your support! **

* * *

**October 2006, Part Two**

"_The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it… I can resist everything but temptation."_

The first was stolen. The second was uncalled for.

* * *

Not many things shocked Damon Salvatore. He was a thinker, incredibly self-aware and observant. Almost every single person he encountered followed a predictable pattern that he could discern from the moment he met them. He was rarely wrong in his judgments and prided himself on his intuitive nature.

But Elena Gilbert: she was the enigma.

He was fairly sure it's what kept him coming back to that library and helping her with her work. There had been plenty of opportunities for him to back out, some of which she'd even offered up herself, but he'd continued onward, buying her coffee and never losing patience over her slower rate of learning. As Damon's mind flickered back over the past few weeks he'd spent with her, he realized that he'd long since crossed the line of just being a nice guy. And after receiving the recent insight into her past, he realized just how much he'd screwed up.

Damon backed away, dropping the hand that had lingered far too long near her ear. Thankfully, the dreamy stupor that Elena had held when she asked him disappeared in an instant, her eyes widening as she fully recognized the implications of her question.

"Wait, Damon… I… I…" She was at a loss, stuttering, as her face became four shades more flushed.

And as if a cold bucket of water had been tossed over Damon's head, he could finally see more clearly. Elena suddenly looked her age, a scared, instinctive girl who had grown too attached to the first man who had been kind. And who could blame her? If he were some guy living down the hall from her, if this was a normal situation, all of her girlfriends would be saying that those unnecessary tutoring sessions in the library and the walks back to her dorm were _totally_ signs that he was into her. Hell, a few minutes earlier, he'd called her a "very pretty girl." Everything Elena knew about romantic relationships had come from television and movies and if they were characters in one, the audience would be screaming at him to tug her into his arms and kiss the crap out of her.

The mental "stop sign" that had appeared in Damon's head was flashing neon red and he recognized that he needed to fix the mess he'd created. "Elena, you know I can't do that." He grimaced at how stilted he sounded.

Elena rapidly bobbed her head up and down, swallowing whatever stress-induced lump had formed in her throat. "No, right. Of course. I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."

She was avoiding eye contact at all costs, staring at her shoes that dug into the sidewalk. Damon let out a deep breath, knowing he needed to be the mature one in the situation. Elena would have rather pretended she'd never asked, but Damon understood the connotations her question implied. A small group of half-drunk students passed by them, oblivious to the pivotal shift that had just occurred in their blissfully ignorant relationship. Damon noticed a deeper flush in Elena's face at being seen during such a vulnerable rejection. His eyes flickered to the small, tamed area of woods adjacent to them.

"Come on," Damon placated, extending his hand to guide her to a more private area. He immediately regretted the more intimate move, but Elena had already warily taken it. Damon sighed at how she could still trust him so intensely regardless of his negative reaction.

Damon located a small bench off of the dirt path just a few steps in. They could still see the street and the glowing lights of nearby buildings, but unless those passing by looked, they wouldn't see the pair in the trees.

Damon inhaled, preparing himself for the riskier topic he was about to approach. "Elena, I hope you… It was _never_ my intention to convey that I was romantically interested in you. Clearly, I do care about you, but purely platonically. I'm engaged and-"

"Please don't speak to me like I'm a child." The words were said so quietly that Damon almost missed them.

"I'm sorry?"

The eyes that had once been filled with weak acceptance and dismay were now filled with that familiar fire. "I _said_ don't speak to me like I'm a child who misunderstood. I'm sheltered, not stupid." Her words came out hot and bitter. If she were any less of a lady, she might have spit.

Damon, once again, was thrown. Her shifts in emotion were beyond Damon's comprehension and it both beguiled and frustrated him to no end. He'd expected tears and never-ending apologies that he could placate with some consoling words, but not anger directed towards him.

"Elena, I-"

She stood up, her right hand waving as she talked. "I'm not some love-struck teenager who became enamored with the first guy who looked her way." He noticed something flash across her eyes before she continued. "I _know_ that you're engaged and I _know_ that you're only here to help me. So I don't appreciate you talking to me like you're some kind old gentleman who can hand me a lollipop and send me on my way, chuckling over how silly young girls can be!"

Damon was triggered by her attempts to embarrass him because of his assumptions. "No, you're right. To you, I'm the guy who would cheat on his fiancée because you give me some pity story about how you're scared of the big, bad world." Damon was now fully convinced Elena brought out the darkest sides of him.

"I'm not asking you to cheat on your fiancée!" Elena hissed, trying to keep her voice low so she didn't call any public attention to herself. "I was…"

He shot up from his seated position. "What?! What were you asking me? Because I'm pretty sure you were asking me to kiss you."

Some of the raging passion in Elena's expression faded at his words as she visibly deflated. "Never mind. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said it. Are you happy now?"

"No!" Damon's loud retort caused Elena to arch her brow in surprise. "I mean…" And that's when he realized that he couldn't do it. Attempting to understand what Elena had been thinking in that moment was impossible. "Just tell me what's going on inside of your head, Elena, because I don't get it. At all." Gone was the mature "better man" who should have handled the situation with grace and dignity. All that was left was a guy exhausted from trying to figure it out. He clumsily fell back onto the bench, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his face with his hands.

"I don't know," Elena cried, exasperated. A quick glare from Damon helped her understand that her answer wasn't good enough. She sighed, sliding down next to him, leaning her back against the granite and sitting in the dirt. "I… I was just projecting an idea onto you. It was word vomit. That's all."

Damon let her words settle, allowing himself to calm down, if only slightly. "Yeah? And what idea was that?"

Elena worried her bottom lip between her teeth, her finger tracing a pattern in the dusty ground. She took her time formulating a response, crafting design after design into the earth.

"You're right. I am scared. I'm tired of being the girl with no life experience. It makes me feel weak, fragile… I'm worried I'm going to be taken advantage of if I don't step up and do something about it."

Damon nodded slightly, even though her unwavering gaze into the trees prevented her from seeing him. He understood where her explanation was going before it was even fully stated: get rid of that first kiss stigma by making it mean nothing so that she could move on with her life. It wasn't totally logical, but he could see how she'd twisted it to make sense. "And you chose me because…"

"I didn't _choose_ anybody," Elena shot back, but her too-quick response made her answer improbable. She let out another sigh at his dubious gaze. "I guess… because I trust you. You're the only guy I trust, in fact. I told you my deep, dark secret and you weren't freaked out by it."

"Elena, I almost got hit by a car. Your interpretation of how well I took it might be a little off." Damon felt a bit more relaxed as he heard a slight giggle fall from her lips.

"You know what I mean. I guess I thought it could be another… teaching moment."

Damon let out a laugh. "Yeah, well I'm pretty sure a kissing lesson isn't exactly teacher-student material. Especially for a guy who's unavailable." Damon paused, scraping his own toes into the dirt next to her drawings. "I'm guessing I can't convince you to wait for a guy who can and _wants_ _to_ be with you."

Elena scoffed. "Yeah. As you've heard, I'm pretty emotionally damaged. I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon."

Damon felt the need to correct her, but decided he'd stepped over the line a few too many times already. "Well, then… I guess my advice would be to find someone your own size to play with… maybe even someone with the same relationship status as you."

Elena lifted her head to look at him, an expression of guilt crossing her face. "I'm sorry, Damon. I shouldn't have put you in that position."

"Apology accepted," Damon replied. They sat in silence for a minute or so as Elena wiped away her drawings. "Alright, time for you to go to bed. You have a big exam tomorrow."

Elena groaned and Damon let out a slight chuckle as he stood, extending a hand to help her get off of the ground.

"Thank you for everything tonight, Damon," she continued, wiping her hands on her pants. "I'm really glad I could have had you as a friend."

Damon quirked his eyebrow at her, a teasing smirk forming on his face. "What makes you think you need to use the past tense?"

Elena's eyes widened as they came to the sidewalk again. "You mean you'd actually even _consider_ helping me again after tonight?"

"I think… that next study date, _you_ buy coffee, and all is forgiven."

Elena's relieved grin nearly swallowed her face whole. "So I guess… I'll text you tomorrow?"

"Sounds perfect. Good night, Elena. Good luck tomorrow."

"Good night, Damon."

* * *

"No way! People don't realize it, but Will and Grace was definitely number two."

"Are you kidding me?! Top ten, _maybe_, but there's no way it's number two."

Damon and Elena had spent their walk home debating the order of modern television sitcoms when it came to the best of the best. They'd both mutually agreed that Friends won the first spot, hands down. But after that had come the affable bickering. It was about two weeks after the "kissing incident" and it was if nothing had changed. In fact, if anything, they'd only grown closer.

"Two words: Karen. Walker." Elena replied haughtily.

"Oh please," Damon shot back. "You and I both know that Jack McFarland was the best thing that ever happened to that show. And let's not forget the world's worst series finale..."

"The _world's_ _worst_?! That's a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think? Besides, a show's overall quality is not cancelled out by the quality of its finale!"

Damon was about to throw out another argument when he was cut off by a shrill female scream. Both of Damon and Elena's heads shot towards the parking lot on the left where they'd heard it. The voice rang out more clearly the second time.

"Please let go of me!"

Before Damon could consider another reaction, he was racing towards the source of the cries.

Once Damon reached the lot, he discovered a young guy backing away from the girl. Apparently, Damon had been heard while he was running. The girl was slightly crying as she tugged her haphazardly arranged shirt down, leaned back against the door of a car.

"What the hell is going on?" Damon inquired, attempting to keep his voice relatively calm despite his anger.

"Nothing." The boy uncouthly wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "It's just a misunderstanding. She's fine."

"Yeah, I wasn't asking you." Damon shot back. He was thankful that he at least had both size and age on his side. Damon was typically leaner than most guys so the situation could have likely not been in his favor. He turned to the sniffling girl. "What happened?" He asked again.

The girl's eyes widened as they flickered over to her peer. Damon watched her swallow and something shift in her demeanor. "He's right," she replied calmly. "It was just… a misunderstanding. I'm okay."

Damon didn't buy it for a second, but both of their adamant denials were forcing him to change his plan of attack. It would have been a lot easier if the girl had simply been an overly emotional wreck, hysterically describing what the guy had done to her. But apparently, she was willing to protect the asshole.

Damon took a deep breath. "Well, I'm sorry but I don't really have a choice. You're going to have to explain it to the police."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" The guy shouted, only fueling Damon's anger more. But before he could grab his phone out of his pocket, the girl stopped him.

"No, please. Don't do that. I'm begging you." Damon's eyebrows furrowed at her crazed expression. She was crying _more_ over his choice to call the police than whatever the guy had been trying to force her to do earlier.

Damon took a deep breath. He knew the better choice for both of them would be to report the situation to the authorities, but the frantic look in the girl's eyes was making him wonder if he didn't know the whole story. She looked about ready to give him her _first_-_born_ just so he wouldn't snitch.

Damon shifted his gaze to the pissed off guy. "Go home, now, and I won't report it." He noticed the glimmers of relief on both of their faces, the girl's far less subtle. He watched as the guy went to grab for the girl's hand, but he stopped them. "_Hell_ no. Go home by yourself. I want to talk to her for a bit." The relief was gone in an instant on her face and the guy seemed as if he was going to challenge Damon. "I'm sorry. Would you prefer being questioned by the cops? You can live a night without trying to get your dick in something besides your hand."

The stunned reaction on the boy's face matched the shock Damon was experiencing. He couldn't recall the last time he'd said something that vulgar and malicious, even if, compared to most, it was fairly mild. The boy swore at him under his breath before drunkenly stumbling off towards what Damon hoped was his dorm.

After he was gone, Damon turned his attention to the girl. "What's your name?" he asked. When he saw the alarm cross her features, he corrected himself. "Just your first. I'm not going to report you."

The girl warily nodded. "Alex."

"Ok, Alex. Are you all right? Be honest. I can get you medical attention without it becoming anything more." Damon was being truthful. With his knowledge as a lawyer, he knew how to keep it under wraps.

"I'm fine. He didn't hurt me." He watched as she wiped away some of the errant mascara running down her cheeks.

"Do you mind telling me what happened? I promise it'll just be between you and me."

Some doubt filled Alex's face, but she began explaining regardless. Damon hated how trusting she was, knowing it would just get her into more trouble in the future. "That was Josh. He's a huge deal at one of the frats and the fact that he even _talked_ to me is a miracle. So he took me on a walk, which I know is just a code for hooking up, and I thought I was going to be okay, but then I chickened out and he got pissed off." Her eyes became a bit more frenzied. "The reason you can't tell anyone is… well, if he got arrested or reported or anything, my social life would be over. I mean… he's _Josh_."

Damon felt the urge to shake the senselessness out of her. Her warped logic was absurd and he hated that she believed she had to live in this twisted world of college reputations. Damon sighed. "Well, _Josh_ is a dick and I would suggest that you avoid him at all costs. Social life be damned. You're lucky it was me who showed up… Hell, you're lucky someone showed up at all. Do you get that?"

Alex nodded, some shame crossing her features. "Yeah, I get it. Thanks for your help." She pushed herself off of the car and began heading in a way that was, thankfully, in the opposite direction of the one Josh had gone in. But before she left, her gaze shifted towards something behind Damon's shoulder. "Bye, Elena. See you in English."

Damon took a deep inhale, scrunching his features up in a mix of frustration and guilt. He'd completely forgotten about the girl he'd been escorting home and realized he was an idiot to believe she might just stay right where he'd left her. To be honest, it was smarter for her to follow him, but now she'd witnessed an event he wished she hadn't.

Damon turned slowly around on his foot and was met with two brown eyes that were widened from the new experience. She looked legitimately terrified of what she'd just seen. Damon swore under his breath, walking swiftly towards her. "Come on," he said briskly. He grabbed her hand without hesitation, guiding her back on their path towards her dorm.

Damon wanted to hit himself for his carelessness. He could bet his life savings on the fact that Elena had never seen something so raw in her life. And, on top of that, she'd watched Damon fall prey to the pleadings of a foolish damsel in distress. She was supposed to look up to him, see him as an example for what a guy was supposed to be. But instead of doing the mature thing, he'd let them both go home. For all he knew, Alex would be right back in Josh's arms tomorrow, apologizing to _him_ for not being more open to his forced attempts at sex. Damon rarely swore in front of Elena and he realized that this was the second time that being with Elena had brought out some darker side of him.

As they continued their walk back, Damon couldn't shake those terrified eyes out of his mind. And not the ones Alex had been sporting. No, he was fixated on the fear Elena had held. He _hated_ that for her. She knew Alex personally. She might even know that Josh kid. Damon didn't think that Elena was completely innocent to the sick, twisted things some guys would do to get off, but he wished she hadn't been introduced to it like that.

But then Damon remembered that conversation a few weeks back. How Elena had said that she would refuse party invitations simply because she was afraid of being taken advantage of. He'd told her to find someone to kiss that was actually her own age. Fury rushed through Damon's veins as he registered how shitty his mistake had been.

That could have been Elena. She wasn't stupid, but she was possibly naïve enough to fall for lines from a guy just like Josh. She seemed so desperate to be more experienced, less vulnerable, that she'd be willing to put herself in the most vulnerable position she could. And Damon had _encouraged_ it. Basically told her to jump straight into some douchebag's arms so that she could get it over with.

It could have been Elena. And Damon would have not been there to stop it.

As Damon's thoughts continued to dart between his mistakes and Elena and the proposed kiss and what they'd witnessed in the parking lot, he didn't notice that their walk was taking a lot longer than normal. When he finally shook himself out of his self-deprecating thoughts, he realized that he was riding the elevator in Elena's dorm. Apparently, his mindless stride had followed her into the building. He couldn't tell if she didn't call him out on it because she didn't care or because she, too, was still shaken up over what happened.

By the time they reached her door, Damon reasoned that he was there to comfort her, given what they'd just witnessed. He brushed past her into the darkened room and, as Elena flickered the light on, he noticed the slightest bit of apprehension over his latest move. She moved past him, setting her belongings on the bed against the far wall. Damon faintly remembered her mentioning that her roommate had gone home for a long weekend and wouldn't be back for another two days. At least he didn't have to explain his seemingly inappropriate presence to an overly curious undergrad.

Damon's eyes took in the room, regardless of the burning stare he could feel on him. He hated that Elena's side of the room was so sparsely decorated compared to the lavishly done side of her roommate. It was another thing to make her feel inferior and she didn't deserve that. She should have been better prepared for this. She should have been better prepared for _all_ of this.

"Are you okay?"

Damon grimaced. That was supposed to be his line. She wasn't supposed to be helping _him_. "The better question is 'Are you?'" Damon's voice came out gravelly and he barely recognized it.

Elena nodded, her lip twitching. "Yeah. It just… _scared_ me." And there was that word again. Damon held back a growl, turning away from her and running his hand through his hair.

"Seriously, Damon. You didn't have to make sure I made it into bed. I'm okay. Bad stuff happens."

"Yeah, well it could have been you!" Damon whirled around as something shifted inside of him, his chest tightening in frustration. "That 'bad stuff' could have happened to you."

Elena's features were marred in confusion. "Okay, well I could get hit by a car or my dorm could burn down, too. Why are you suddenly so torn up about it?"

"Because you're not standing in the middle of the street or leaving candles on in your room!"

Comprehension slowly dawned across Elena's face as she realized what he was hinting at. He watched her as she tried to hold some of her irritation back. The dorm room was silent except for Damon's heavy breathing. "You think I'm _willingly_ putting myself into situations like Alex did?"

Damon sighed. "No, but you sure seemed eager to a few weeks ago."

Elena's lip curled in disgust. "Damon, I said I was tired of being inexperienced, not that I was going to spread my legs anytime some depraved frat guy called me pretty."

Damon's jaw dropped slightly at her vulgar words. It took him a few moments before he could gather himself. "God, Elena. You don't get it. I basically told you to find some guy your own age to throw yourself on!"

"No, you didn't!"

"Yes, I did! I might as well have just patted you on the head and said 'Go get 'em, sport!'" Damon ground his teeth in rage. "God, we can't… I can't… you shouldn't have me to look up to, Elena."

"_Look up to_? What the hell are you talking about?"

Damon frowned, his voice growing more somber. "I shouldn't have let them go tonight. I should have called the police. That wasn't the mature thing to do. I shouldn't be continually making these mistakes-"

Elena cut him off. "God, Damon. What _is_ it with you and constantly trying to do the right thing?! You're not here to be some kind of role model for me and you're sure as _hell_ not here to be some sort of replacement dad or big brother!"

"Then what am I here for, Elena?" And that was the question that he'd been asking himself for far too long. "What am I here for?"

Elena shook her head. "You're here to help me study and be my _friend_."

"I'm trying to be your friend! And as your _friend_, I'm telling you that you shouldn't go throwing yourself at random guys."

"Do you think I'm incapable of determining for myself who's a creep and who's not?!"

"I _think_ that I have the right to be worried about you, especially after everything that's happened."

Elena let out a growl. "You know what?" And before Damon could even fully grasp what was happening, Elena was across the room with her lips firmly pressed against his. Damon gave nothing in return, mostly because the kiss was just that quick. Elena shot back from him, that unfaltering determination in her eyes still sparkling. "First kiss: done. You don't have to 'worry' about me anymore!"

Damon stood, jaw agape at what had just occurred. For what felt like the thousandth time, Elena had done something Damon could have never predicted. "Did you just _steal_ your first kiss from me?"

Elena groaned. "You should be thrilled, Damon. Now your desperate little parasitic ward isn't so desperate anymore. She can cross that off the list without being taken advantage of by some sleazy undergrad. You can finally sleep at night."

Damon was still flabbergasted. "What the hell, Elena? Are you out of your mind?!"

The sarcasm dripped off of every word. "No, Damon. I'm not. I'm just a silly little child who can't think straight without a _mature_, strong man guiding her along!"

Damon had nothing to say back to her, still lost in the cloudy fog of emotions overtaking him. And as he watched her try to normalize her breathing, he hated what he saw. Because he didn't see the aforementioned child. He didn't see the frightened little girl in the parking lot or the pleading one from the woods. He saw the young _woman, _the one her parents and hometown had tried so hard to contain, the one _he'd_ tried so hard to ignore. And as much as he wished this were the first time he'd seen her like this, he could suddenly recall countless times where the _man_ had overcome the good guy. Where his gaze had lingered too long when she'd bent over to pick something up. When he'd gone along with a conversation that had become too flirtatious or spent a gratuitous amount of time with her when he should have been home with his fiancée. All of those times had been reasoned away by the "good guy" in him. But now, standing in her dorm room, frustrated ten times over, the way he was looking at her couldn't be erased by the good guy. In fact, the good guy was nowhere to be found, long since escaped after it saw the train wreck Damon had willingly boarded by following her upstairs.

Regardless of his missing better side, Damon knew he had to leave. "You're right. You don't need my guidance anymore. I think… I think we're done being friends. In fact, I think we're done altogether. This was a mistake." Damon turned, heading towards the door.

"Wait, Damon!" Elena cried out meekly once he grasped the handle. Damon shook his head back and forth. _That_ he had expected.

"Does that freak you out, Elena? Not sure what you're going to do without someone holding your hand?"

Her eyes gave away her true feelings, a sweeping expression of shame crossing her face as she looked down at her shoes.

Damon continued. "You see, that's the thing. You want a relationship that I can't give you. I can't _be_ your equal. I can't be your best friend. I can't be the guy you can take all of your crap out on. And I _definitely_ can't be the guy who comes running back to help you even after all of this." Damon came closer to her, forcing her gaze upwards. "So here's the deal. If you're so terrified of failing out of school, you need to apologize to me about the tantrum _and_ the kiss and then you need to admit that you need my help. That's the relationship we're going to have. Because I can't be anything more for you. Especially not…" He didn't need to finish his sentence.

There were about fifteen different phrases that could fill in that blank and Elena knew all of them. And because of that, Damon expected her to immediately express how regretful she was. But instead, she clung to her anger with a stubborn determination as if it were a safety blanket.

"No," she replied simply.

Damon felt more fury rush through his veins. "Really? You _really_ want to go with that answer?" Elena nodded her head up and down slowly, causing Damon to let out a bitter laugh. "Alright. Fine. Have fun failing out of college. I hope your hometown accepts you back with open arms. Look forward to a future of being unhappily married and popping out little overly religious kids."

Damon caught her wrist before it could come within six inches of his face. Clearly, she'd never slapped anyone before because the movement was far too obvious and clumsy. He leaned in a little closer, something the good guy side of him would have reasoned was purely to scare her out of her outburst, but the good guy was still long gone. "Are you done?" The bitterness in his voice came out like venom.

"Not yet," she murmured.

Suddenly, she was up against him once more, her lips forced tightly to his, if not slightly missing his own. And this time, she didn't pull them back after a few seconds. Instead, she lifted one hand to his shoulder to hold herself more firmly to him.

Damon would swear up and down, even years later, that he fought it with everything he had. He was a good guy and this was totally wrong. Problem was, that good guy had disappeared somewhere between the lobby and the elevators and the only thing left was a sick form of sexual tension Damon had kept suffocated for far too long. So when Elena's mouth opened against his, trying to take in a breath, he lost the will to fight against it, and kissed her back.

It took Elena a few moments before she could understand the rhythm. Although he wasn't planning on informing her, it was fairly obvious that this was her first real kiss. The one minutes earlier could barely count for anything. But he could ignore the clumsier movements of her mouth given that they paled in comparison to the rushing need flowing through him. Damon grabbed the back of her head with one hand and the small of her back with another, securing her against him more forcefully as he finally made his first attempt at sliding his tongue across her bottom lip. He felt her hesitation as she opened her mouth, but he held the control in the kiss. The hands that were on his shoulders slid up to his neck and an impulsive yank on a small tendril of hair along with the first slide of his tongue against hers had him shifting his right hand down from her back to her ass.

Damon was damned sure it was impossible to think of anything beyond the kiss. All he wanted to do was keep touching her. Every goal and accomplishment he'd made in his life was simplified into that one aim. Thankfully, because he could only contemplate where to put his hand next or how he could be so wound up over someone who had never done this in her life, he couldn't think about Rose or Elena's age or any aspect of his morality. And once Elena finally figured out the tempo, he could only figure out how to get her closer to him.

Damon squeezed her ass once more and practically said a prayer when she allowed him to lift her onto the nearby sink she shared with her roommate. The small amount of counter space available fit her ass perfectly and Damon was tugged towards her when she wrapped her legs entirely around his hips. His mind briefly flickered to what movies or films had taught her this and he wondered if she'd ever delved into anything sexually explicit. For a girl who had done nothing, she seemed to know how to do a whole lot of something.

Since most of it was a haze, Damon could only slightly remember what had caused him to stumble out of his reverie. It could have been when Elena's nails had scraped down his clothed back, but he was also pretty shocked when his own hand slid down the side of her breast. Whatever it was, it was enough for Damon to tear his lips away from hers, panting from the exertion.

The only word Damon could form and the only one he could consider came out twice. "Fuck," he murmured, stemming mostly in awe of what had happened. The second time, it was from fury. "Fuck!" He noticed Elena flinch at his outburst, but he'd stepped away to prevent any repeats of the mistake that had just occurred.

Both of them were trying to catch their breaths, neither daring to look at the other. Damon briefly wondered if she was crying, but decided it wasn't worth it to check. He knew he had a decision to make. He could either walk straight out of that room and never say a word about it or he could have a rational discussion that involved him apologizing for his massive misstep and a promise to never do something like it again.

"_Damon_."

And just like that, Elena's voice made the decision for him. She sounded so broken, so needy, and it affected Damon far too much. He knew there was no way they could discuss this without it becoming way too much, way too quickly. He needed to get out of that room before he lost control again. Before he made another fucking mistake.

So Damon did. Without a glance in her direction, Damon walked straight out the door.

* * *

When Damon entered his townhome, he expected it to be pitch dark. Rose should have been long asleep by now, given the amount of time he'd spent just driving around in aimless circles. The emotional turmoil of deciding his next move had drained him of all energy. But instead of stumbling into a dark house, he was met with the glaring brightness of a single light coming from the combination living/dining room.

Damon had decided he was going to tell her. He had to tell her. He needed to make one good decision tonight or else he wouldn't be sure of whom he was anymore. Damon slowly made his way towards the source of the light, preparing for the worst, but was met with something even more troublesome.

Rose was sitting in the chair farthest from him, her gaze cold and completely detached. There was nothing in front of her, no activity that would have forced her to stay awake. And the moment he came into view, she began to speak.

"Damon, we need to talk." Her voice was chillingly void of any sort of sentiment, but Damon was too distracted by his own news to notice.

"I have to tell you something first-"

"I can promise you, Damon, that this is more important." Rose suddenly had the slightest bit more passion behind her words, but it was still eerily vacant. And Damon could finally pick up on it.

"What's wrong?" He asked, a hint of concern tainting his words.

Rose took a breath before continuing, her blank stare meeting his.

"I fucked someone else."

That sentence finally made Damon notice the two suitcases lined up against the wall. That sentence finally made him notice the engagement ring sitting on the table, far, far away from the place it was supposed to be.

"Damon, I don't want to get married to you. At all."

**So... what'd we think? Did anybody predict this turn of events? I feel like it was fairly obvious, but maybe I'm biased :p**

**I hope you guys can sense some of the OOCness leaving the story. I feel like you're starting to see a more Damon-like side to Damon along with Elena becoming a bit more Elena-like. At least when it comes to the show. Clearly, they still have a _long_ way to go, but it was fun to write them more in-character than they have been in the past. Damon is definitely going to have his biggest shift of character after what just went down so be prepared for a more realistic and cynical Damon. Elena still has a lot more to experience before she can have a major character shift, but it's coming... slowly but surely.**

**I also want to address any concerns you might have with how fast this story is going. I'm trying to make Damon and Elena's relationship as realistic as possible and I know the quick pace accompanied by how much has gone down in the past five chapters makes it seem like I'm rushing through. But I can promise you, as someone who knows _exactly_ where this story is heading, the stuff that's happening right now is a blip on the radar compared to what's coming. **

**It's as if you were writing a fifty page essay for school. If WI was that essay, the stuff that's happened so far would only equal the _introductory paragraph._ Seriously, a LOT of stuff has still yet to occur and their journey together has only just begun. So if it feels like Damon suddenly wanting to kiss Elena came too swiftly or her feelings for him are unreasonably soon, just remember that, if D and E were to look back on their lives in this story, this would only be a small portion of what is to come. I have no desire to write, and I think you have no desire to read, ten or so chapters of D and E just getting to know each other. It's boring, at least to me, and I'd rather get to the stuff that's really important in the end. I hope you guys can agree with that and understand how much more this story has to come. (Once again, we haven't even gotten to what's mentioned in the summary!)**

**Alright, well I think that's all I had to say for this chapter. I really hope you guys are enjoying the story. It's definitely a weird change for me to go from YBR, where I was getting 50+ reviews a chapter and thousands of views a week, to this one which is... different to say the least. I hope that's simply because it's new and not that I'm suddenly the world's worst writer and you all think it's a bunch of garbage. Regardless, I hope you leave your honest reviews (I've been really good at responding to them!) and continue reading. I'm loving this story and where it's headed and I hope you all are as well. Especially since a whole lot more is about to go down ;)**

**I love you all tons and will update in a week!**


	6. October 2006 to January 2007

They say it's what you make

I say it's up to fate

It's woven in my soul

I need to let you go

Your eyes, they shine so bright

I want to save their light

I can't escape this now

Unless you show me how

**April 1999**

"_Proud of you, son."_

_Damon's eyes, once locked on the lively figure across the room, flickered over to his father. The older man was intimidating in appearance, but Damon knew better than to be afraid of him in this moment. He smiled, nodding at the tumbler in his father's hands._

"_Proud of me? How much have you had to drink tonight?"_

_Giuseppe chuckled. "It's a sober thought, I promise."_

_Damon quirked his eyebrows. "And what, dare I ask, inspired it?"_

_Giuseppe's eyes gleamed as his gaze traveled over to where Damon's had been. "Your choice of woman."_

_Damon felt heat rush to his neck as he focused back on Rose. One of her girlfriends leaned in to whisper something in her ear, eliciting hysterical laughter from the group. _

_It was the night of senior prom and instead of going out to a restaurant, all of the parents had set up an elaborate multi-course meal at one of the larger homes. The dads had jokingly dressed up as waiters and the moms had made the obligatory picture-taking seem like a photo shoot. They were a few minues away from leaving for the school. Damon had been overly absorbed with staring at his date and current girlfriend when his father had approached._

_He was still in awe of how lucky he was. Rose had been one of his best friends throughout middle school, mostly thanks to their familial connections, but the second high school had come around, Damon had decided he wanted something more. By some miracle, Rose had been willing to try it out, too. They'd started out as awkward kids, but after three years, Rose had become this kind, gorgeous woman and, Christ, if Damon didn't just feel blessed to be able to stand next to her in pictures. _

_He felt like he could lean against that wall staring at her for years. In a few months, they'd be in college and everything could change. But for now, he was just the luckiest guy in the whole damn room because he got to escort Rose Abington to his prom._

"_Yeah, well…" He really couldn't muster anything else, too embarrassed to be caught staring by his dad._

"_You want to marry her?"_

"_Dad!" Damon whirled around on his father, panic filling in his eyes. "We're only eighteen."_

"_I didn't say you had to get married tomorrow! I'm just asking if you want to marry her."_

_Damon gulped. He didn't want to sound ridiculous in front of Giuseppe, but he'd be lying if he hadn't pictured a future with her a million times. Screw some of his douchier friends: he wanted the wife and kids and white picket fence. And he wanted it with Rose._

_Thankfully, a parent on the other side of the living room shouted out that it was time to get going and saved him from answering. Rose's eyes locked with Damon's across the room and a relieved, excited expression settled on her features. All Damon wanted was to get over and truly start one of the best nights of his life, but he'd have to wait for his father's permission first._

"_Sorry if I got a little too serious there. It's pretty crazy for me to be watching you go to your senior prom. You're growing up too fast." Damon rolled his eyes at the nostalgia and Giuseppe laughed. His face grew a bit more serious as he placed his hand on his son's shoulder. "Hold on to that one, kid. She's a firecracker and she might kill you one day, but she's worth it. If I've learned anything, it's that the wild ones are the best to love."_

_Damon smiled as he watched his father's eyes slide over to his mother and he felt a flood of contentment rush through his veins. "I'll do my best."_

**October 2006**

Damon's eyes continued their intense staring contest with the framed picture on the mantle, his thumb tracing damp circles on the mouth of the empty bottle in his left hand. He pursed his lips, a dull ache in the back of his head making him wish he had the energy to get up and actually obtain more. But more liquor meant leaving the house, as the bottle in his hand was the last, and that simply wasn't a feasible option for the heavily intoxicated shut-in.

The picture was of him and Rose, sharing an oversized chaise at their friends' beach house a few summers back. Damon was spread out, his typically pale skin only slightly darker from the sun's rays. His bikini-adorned girlfriend was draped across his exposed chest, giggling from behind sunglasses.

"_Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise?" Damon grumbled in the phone._

_His sarcasm was met with a deep sigh on the other end. "When would you like me to stop by?"_

"_Never."_

"_Damon, please-"_

_Damon groaned. After only fifteen seconds he was ready to hang up. "I can be out from noon to three tomorrow."_

_He could tell she was nodding, even if he was nowhere near her. "Okay. That will be fine. It shouldn't take us that long anyway."_

_It was the second time Damon had sworn he heard a record scratching after something she'd said. He leaned forward in his chair. "Did you just say 'us'?"_

_Now she was probably trembling a bit, like she always did when she felt guilty. "I can't do it alone, Damon. It's a lot of stuff and since you're not going to be there-"_

"_Are you bringing him?" Damon didn't want to hear the answer to her question, but he had to know._

"_Damon-"_

"_Are you kidding me?! You're going to-" Damon cut himself off. He was about to express his frustration over the dick being in his house, but he had the sinking realization he might be corrected. It probably wouldn't be his first time._

"_My parents aren't talking to me. My friends hate me. He's the only person that will help!"_

"_I'm sorry. Am I supposed to feel sympathy for you?"_

_Another sigh heaved across the line, her tone becoming far less frantic and a lot meeker. "No, Damon. Not at all." There was more silence as Damon came to terms with what she was planning. Rose cut his thoughts off with a tearful voice. "So, I guess you haven't reconsidered the friendship offer?"_

_Damon felt a rush of sentimentality flood his chest and he hated it. She'd been relatively emotionless a few nights ago as she'd explained what had happened, but the second she'd actually gone up to leave, the tears had started flowing. If Damon had any weakness when it came to Rose, it was seeing her cry. He could never forget the times she'd cried and actually deserved his comfort and now, hearing her sniff lightly, he felt the cruelty leave him if only for a moment._

"_You broke my heart, Rose. I couldn't be 'friends' with you if I tried." The fight was out of his voice and he let her finally hear the broken man he'd become since she'd walked out the door._

_He could tell she was nodding again, collecting herself. "Okay. Well, if there's anything I can do to make this move easier for you, let me know."_

_Damon let out a short, bitter laugh. "Just be gone before I get back." _

Damon stood, bobbing on his feet, and crossed over to the darkened fireplace. He lifted the picture frame off of the wood and smoothed his thumb over the people he knew all too well. He knew that most would say they barely recognized their younger selves, especially after so many years, but Damon had the opposite issue. That beach trip felt like yesterday, as did almost every memory between the two. He remembered every last detail of those sunbathing kids and he wanted them back.

As promised, Damon had been gone when they'd arrived, and now the house was only _half_ of a broken home. Many things were gone that he hadn't even realized he'd need. He was still confused of how things could be divided into _hers_ and _his_ when they'd always been an "ours." One thing was for sure: those damn couple pictures had somehow become _his_. Clearly, there wasn't any room for those in Greg's apartment.

"_How long?" Damon's voice was monotone, daring to ask a question he most definitely didn't want the answer to. But he had to know._

"_Six months." _

_Damon flew up from the chair. He'd been playing a game of "sit down, stand up" for the past five minutes. If something she said enraged him, he got on his feet. If it was something that broke him, he had to sit down. If it was a combination, he gripped the back of the chair for support. Hearing those two words had him white knuckling the rounded wood._

_She'd gone into more detail without his questioning. Damon knew the guy. He'd mingled in their friend group at times in college. His name was Gregory and he hated being called Greg. He was a tall blonde who could probably kick Damon's ass. Greg was in sales, which wasn't exactly anything to be thrilled about, but he'd worked his way up pretty damn fast. Damon hadn't seen him in almost a year, but apparently the same couldn't be said for his ex-fiancée._

"_I'm in love with him, Damon. That should be some sort of relief to you." _

_Damon stood up, his eyes practically bugging out of his head. "Relief-"_

"_I know! It sounds absurd, but… I'm not doing this casually. I didn't decide to fuck our marriage up with a one-off."_

"_But you did! Rose, God. Whatever you two had… that magical 'first night'… that was your one-off! You destroyed whatever trust and loyalty we had right then! And you're telling me I'm supposed to be relieved that you kept it up? You're right, Rose. You didn't do this casually. You did this so damn thoughtfully and creatively they should give you a fucking award!"_

"_Damon, I needed to get out-"_

"_Get out of what?! What relationship are you referring to here because I don't think I was involved? I missed the part where I drove you to sleep with some other guy for half a year."_

"_It wasn't you, Damon. It was me. I had to get out of here, out of this perfect little town. You know me. You know that I've never been this pearls and cocktails kind of girl."_

"_Oh, don't give me that. I factor in somewhere in your decision. At some point, you determined that my feelings and my commitment and everything I've done to keep this relationship afloat and keep you happy weren't important enough to value. So, tell me what's wrong with me!"_

"_Why can't we just be-"_

"_Tell me what's wrong with me!"_

"_Fine! You're too content!"_

_Damon stared at her, jaw agape in shock. As the words settled into his brain, he let out a choked laugh. "Okay… wow. Well, I can't wait to let all of my friends and family know that my fiancée left me for another man because I was just too damn happy."_

"_That's not what I mean, Damon, and you know it." Damon shook his head back and forth as she worked herself up. "You were just satisfied with everything! You were completely fine living this average life. You didn't want to go anywhere, do anything! You have been so stuck on this perfect little ideal of the white picket fence and the happy little family that you never considered anything else. You had a plan and by choosing you, by loving you, I could never get out of it! I wanted to travel. I wanted to experience the world, more than this insipid little country club town has to offer. But you never did." He refused to look directly at her, but he could hear Rose's voice become more clouded with tears. "And anytime I suggested it, you looked at me like I was crazy. Like 'There's silly Rose again. Such a free spirit.' But I wanted it so badly and you… you didn't, Damon." _

_Damon's gaze finally made its way back to her. She was trembling in her seat, her eyes tear-filled. "It wasn't some flimsy desire that you could fix by taking me to Europe," she continued, practically reading his mind. "You shouldn't think that. That's why it was me and not you. I would have wanted something new, something different regardless of whom I was with." Suddenly, she stood, crossing over to him. Shaking hands reached up to cup his face and Damon wasn't strong enough to remove them. His body was in so much shock that he was willing to take comfort from anyone who offered it, even the harbinger of his pain. _

"_And because it was you… that's what kept me in this for so much longer than anybody else could. I was in love with you, Damon. You were my best friend." He flinched at her use of the past tense. "I kept telling myself, 'Who could be such an idiot to want something different from this?' I knew I would never find another man like you no matter how many cities I lived in. I hated wanting something more when I knew there were far too many guys who had a hell of a lot less."_

_The pads of her finger smoothed over his cheekbones. "I still love you, Damon. I'm so sorry I hurt you. You deserve a million times better than me. I understand if you want me out of your life, but if I can help you with something, fix something in return-"_

_Damon's gaze burned a hole in the wall above her head as he finally found the strength to lift her hands from his face, dropping them at her sides. "I'm still missing the part where I'm not supposed to think you're a despicable excuse for a human being."_

"_I-"_

"_You give me this sad, long speech about how you were just too driven by the flow of the breeze and how the birds called out to you, wishing you could fly. You try to placate me with some 'better man' crap and now you're thinking you can somehow be my friend after all of this?"_

_Rose was silent, her gaze unable to meet his for the first time that night. Damon's anger grew, realizing it was the only thing that would evoke the reaction he wanted: shame. He let out a bitter laugh. "You know what sucks? You know, beyond your future wife fucking another guy? Hearing a well-rehearsed break-up speech." Damon felt something inside of him break. The part of him that cared for her feelings was going to be absent for a long time. "I mean bravo. Just so damn composed you can barely shed a tear over a ten-year relationship! I bet you practiced. I bet you practiced in front of the mirror, thought it through in your head almost every day. Hell, I bet you fine-tuned a few lines while you were having sex with me! Nice job, by the way, keeping that up. Never throw the fiancé off track, right?"_

"_Damon-"_

_His voice turned cold, bitter. "I don't want you to walk away from this being proud of yourself. If you're going to walk away, leave me for some other guy, you're not allowed to look back at this and go 'I did that right.' You are a coward, Rose. You're not some brave, free soul who finally realized what she wanted in life and took it. No. You sat around, playing pretend for years, letting me think everything was fine while you were living in some nightmare of your own delusions. And then, instead of granting me the decency to tell me how you felt, break up with me the way I deserved, the way this relationship deserved… you just fall in love with somebody else. _

"_You can leave, get married to that guy… or string him along for a while until you get bored, whatever. I just hope you remember, in every damn country you visit, how fucked up you were. And that you weren't strong or tough or the mature one. You were a little girl that gave up and ran away."_

_It was silent, excluding Damon's heaving breath and the light sniffles from Rose as tears streamed down her face. After a few moments, she swallowed, rapidly nodding her head up and down. "You're right, Damon. I suck." She let out a choked, ironic laugh. "I practice for months and you can still give a better break-up speech on instinct." Damon didn't bother responding to her joke._

_Rose nodded again, wandering behind him to pick up the two bags. Damon watched her retreating figure head down the small hallway to the door, but she paused before she'd gotten to the handle. She turned at the waist, looking back on him with a slight half-smile. "It was when I looked in the mirror and I didn't recognize the person staring back at me."_

"_What do you mean?" Damon could barely muster up the strength to be cruel._

"_That's when I realized this wasn't worth it anymore. The person I saw looking back at me… I didn't like her. I didn't want to be her anymore." Rose paused, playing with the frayed handle of the bag on her shoulder. "What about you? Do you like what you see?"_

_Damon rolled his eyes, sighing. "I have a feeling I won't be so thrilled with it after tonight."_

_Rose shook her head back and forth, the smile growing the slightest bit more. "I think you should reconsider that. In fact, I think this is the best you've ever looked."_

_Damon scoffed. "Well, I have no doubt I look pretty damn great when you're walking away."_

"_It's not that, Damon. It's how passionate you are. It might be from hating me, but I've never seen you this alive."_

As Damon's heart began to beat a little more erratically and his chest tightened, he realized he needed more alcohol and fast. Screw waiting for his BAC to go down to a safe number. He'd just walk to the shifty convenience store a few streets away. He might make a fool of himself in his drunken state, but it wasn't like Rose hadn't already done that for him. Everyone had to know by now.

Maybe the cashier would side with him.

**December 2006:**

"Checking for a dead body?" Giuseppe's head shot up at the sound of his son's voice. He'd been peering into the car parked on the street, holding a brown paper bag in his arm. Damon was leaned against the railing of the front steps that led up to his townhome. He'd gone outside to grab the mail only to be met with the man he hadn't seen in weeks. Not that that was unusual. Beyond his coworkers, Damon rarely interacted with anybody anymore, family included.

Giuseppe shot him a smile, crossing through the small yard to where he stood. "Nope. Just making sure you're keeping it in shape. It's a nice car, son. Don't forget that."

"How could I ever? You'd kill me if I let that car die of anything _but_ old age."

He chuckled. "Well, are you gonna let me in? It's freezing out here." Giuseppe wasn't lying. That winter had started out cold and every passing day forced the temperature to drop even more. It was incredibly unusual for their southern town and the newscasters loved to talk about it. Mostly because there wasn't much else going on.

"Yeah, of course."

Once they were inside, Giuseppe threw his coat onto a chair in the living room and revealed what was in the paper bag: incredibly old and expensive scotch. "You are a saint," Damon crooned, settling onto the couch as his father located two glass tumblers to pour the liquor into.

"Well, I don't know how the pastor would feel about it, but if my son was going to get drunk tonight, I thought it might as well be from the good stuff." Damon cocked his eyebrow at his father as he crossed over, handing him the glass. "Now, don't give me that look. I'm just kidding."

"About your son's imaginary alcohol problem? Why thank you." Damon took a sip of the brown liquid, appreciating quality for the first time in what seemed like months. His dad was definitely correct when he assumed his son was only drinking the cheap shit. "I'm supposing that's all the family could talk about at Christmas."

Giuseppe harrumphed from his position in the opposing seat, sinking into the leather. "Yeah, well. We wouldn't have been _able_ to talk so much if you'd been there."

Damon nodded, not expecting anything different. "I was wondering when I was going to get my guilt visit." Damon gulped down almost three quarters of the scotch before placing it down on the nearby table. "Alright, lay it on me."

"I'm not here to guilt trip you. I understand why you didn't come. The whole family does. Can't a man just visit his kid because he misses him?"

Damon sighed as he ran his fingers along the couch's lining. "Just tell me what you came here to tell me, Dad."

Giuseppe made his own steady attempt at finishing the glass before starting. "Look, this isn't something I'm going to force on you. I just… It's been two months, Damon. And you're not doing great. You're losing this fight real bad."

If there was one thing Damon appreciated about his father, it was his ability to cut the crap and get to the point. "Since when was this a fight? I'm pretty sure the 'fight' was over around the time she took the engagement ring off."

"Oh, don't bullshit me, Damon. You and I both know that every break-up has a winner and a loser. And right now, you are losing by a mile." Giuseppe slammed the glass onto the table next to his son's. "I'm not into gossiping quite like your mother, but… let's just say it was a good thing you didn't come celebrate with us this season."

Damon ground his teeth, his expression showing his unease as he started to put two and two together. "Was he there?"

"Of course, he was there! She had him on her arm like a prizewinning trophy. I don't know what she was showing off more, the guy or the ring." His dad leaned over and patted his knee. "Smaller than yours, though. Don't you worry." Damon scoffed at the trivial dig as he stood up, beginning to pace. "But the worst fucking part of this is the way they were treated. It might have been the holiday spirit, but there wasn't a single person in that room that made her feel as awful as she deserved to feel. Southern politeness and all that crap. I tell you what, if her daddy weren't so well off… well, she wouldn't have been able to stay a minute in this town."

"I'm not sure why you're telling me this, Dad."

Giuseppe heaved a sigh. "Because, it's only going to get worse."

Those words made Damon pause. "What are you saying?"

"What I'm saying is that if, after only two months, the girls are oohing all over her ring and asking when the wedding's going to be, you're going to be stuck in this damn town watching little Greg's and little Rose's run around, taunting you until the day you die."

Damon's mouth dropped slightly. "What happened to 'Rose is such a sweet girl. Hold on to that one?'"

Giuseppe let out a heavy breath, dialing back his earlier intensity significantly. "Look, I respect the family. As much as the guy might piss me off from time to time, Tom's great. And his wife's always been a friend of your mother's. But I hate seeing you like this. You go to work, you come home. That's your entirety of your life these days and it's not what you were meant for. It's not who I raised you to be. She's moved on and the town's gonna keep with her. If they ain't gonna pin the label of 'cheater' on her, they're going to pin the label of 'cheated' on you."

Damon flung his hands in the air. "I'm still not sure what you're asking of me here, Dad. You want me to find some hotter woman, wave her around town? That's pathetic."

"But leaving isn't."

Damon's mouth went dry, his eyes widening. "You're asking me to leave?"

"I'm not _asking_ you to do anything, Damon. I'm just… I'm saying it's an option. And it might be your best one."

"How does running away solve any of my problems?"

"It's not running away. It's getting the opportunity to _win_. You have a law degree. You know this. You will never become better than her in this town no matter how gorgeous your wife is or how many straight-A kidlets you two pop out. If you're here, it will be a constant unspoken competition between the two of you and everyone will be watching. She will define you for the rest of your life. This place is too small… you'll have to be civil with her. I know you don't want it to end like that."

Damon glared at his father. "Maybe that's _exactly_ what I want."

"No, it's not. You might have been complacent, Damon, but you've never been weak. You don't want to go down like this. You want the victory. And if you leave this two-bit town and go make something of yourself in a city that actually matters, you might just do that."

Damon felt the sick anger that had been eating away at him for months bubble up to the surface, his hands clenching into fists as he paced again. "God," he scoffed. "How did this even happen? I mean, what happened to all that 'I want to travel' bullshit?! I don't think she's gone three miles past this town's borders since the day she brought it up! If anything, those two have rooted themselves even more firmly here!" Damon pivoted, walking back to the mantle where the pictures still stood, his voice losing its edge as her face smiled at him from behind the frame. "It wasn't about seeing the world. It was just the idea that she _could_. I made her feel trapped."

Damon turned on his surprisingly silent dad. "What happened to taking the high road?" He asked accusingly.

"The option of leaving might be both." Damon's expression indicated that it wasn't a good enough answer. Giuseppe sighed, standing to pour himself another drink. "Look, kid. Nobody said I was a good guy. I appreciate you always thinking so, but… I'm too big a fan of justice, revenge. I want what's best for you. And you ain't gonna get it here." He came closer to his son, leaning in and placing his hand on his shoulder. "She said she felt trapped. What happens if _you're_ the one to leave? You think that's going to make her feel too good about herself? She's going to constantly question whether or not she made the right choice, no doubt about that."

Damon stepped back from his dad, his poisonous words seeping into his skull and making far too much logical sense. "Damon, just say the word and I'll pay for it. Plane tickets, apartments, living expenses, you name it. _You can do this._ Your mother will get over it. Just visit every couple of years, yeah?"

Damon took a deep breath, his head slowly starting to shake back and forth, anxiety creeping through his nerves. Defeat settled into his skin and it felt like hell. "Dad, I can't…. I can't just… I can't leave everything I've ever known. I'm not that guy. I never will be."

He watched as disappointment fell over Giuseppe's face, nodding as he digested his son's decision. "Okay. Well, then, I guess I just came here to let you know I'm here for you. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help get ya through this." Giuseppe turned, going to grab his coat.

"I'm sorry, Dad." Giuseppe turned around, a quizzical expression marring his features. "I know it must be hard having the town fool for a son."

Giuseppe pursed his lips. "Like I said, Damon… I just want what's best."

**January 2007:**

For once, Damon was finally going to bed early, rather than staying up until the late night shows stopped and the infomercials began. But his slow-approaching sleep was interrupted by a loud knock at his door. Granted, it was only nine o'clock, but he was still none too thrilled.

There were only a few options. His dad trying another swing at getting him to hitch a ride out of town. His mother claiming she was going to die before she ever saw him again. Maybe friends to both patronize and insult him in their attempts to "comfort." He didn't really care to answer the door, but it was too small of a neighborhood. If he didn't answer, he might have the police barging in half an hour later, wondering if he'd died.

When Damon opened the door, he considered that he probably would have preferred the death option.

"Hey."

It wasn't as if he never expected the day to come when he'd run into Elena Gilbert. He knew being a hermit helped his wishful cause, but he wasn't naïve enough to think it would never happen. Every single day since the unfortunate incident in her dorm he'd gotten a call from her. No voicemail, no texts. Just phone calls. Obviously he'd never answered, but it didn't deter her in the slightest.

About a week after, Damon got a reminder on his phone, one that she must have sneakily placed during a library session. "Elena's Birthday" came up in all capital letters, an annoying ring accompanying the brutal words. It definitely wasn't his proudest, or most sober, moment when he texted her with: "Happy Birthday. Rose cheated on me. The engagement and relationship are off." Immediately after he sent it, the phone had begun to ring with her caller ID, but he'd shut it off.

An irritating rush of memories came back seeing her standing on his doorstep and Damon really wished he'd purchased more bourbon. Of course, after his father's demeaning little speech a few weeks back, he'd felt the need to prove him wrong. That meant the alcohol had to become a thing of the past. Of course, he now majorly regretted that decision.

"Elena, what are you doing here?"

Elena took a deep, exaggerated breath, exhaling like little kids are taught to do at the doctor's office. "We need to talk."

Damon's mouth tightened. _Clearly_, they needed to talk. They'd needed to talk since the moment he'd kissed her. He'd just been hoping that talk could occur about a decade from now. He sighed, bracing himself for whatever his once peaceful evening had in store for him. "Come on in."

Once she was safely inside and Damon had glanced around to check for any spying neighbors, he followed her into the living room. "I would have called," she murmured, gracefully sitting down on the edge of the leather chair. "But I didn't really think it would matter." Damon halfheartedly smirked at her dig. Regardless of his blunt text, her calls had neither decreased nor increased.

He moved to stand in front of her, hands in his pockets. "My apologies. It's been… complicated." He watched some of her strength fade at his words. "Would you like something to drink?"

Elena shook her head, rubbing her hands on her jeans, a few more trembles vibrating through her as she warmed up to the room. "No, thank you." He noticed that she'd worn no coat or jacket, even if it was probably thirty degrees outside. Damon grimaced as he recognized those old feelings of protection come rising back up in him. _Just like riding a bike_.

He moved to sit on the adjacent couch. "How did you get here?"

"I took a bus and then walked the rest," she replied guiltily. They both knew the nearest bus stop was at least a mile away.

Damon sighed, rubbing his forehead like he used to do while tutoring her. He hadn't cared about anyone but himself since October and having Elena in his house, shivering from the cold and looking more pathetic than a child at the dentist, made too many old habits come flooding back. He might have become a pretty shitty example of a man since Rose had left him, but it didn't mean the gentleman side had completely disappeared.

"Look, Damon." The strength in her voice surprised him. "I don't want to sit here pretending what happened didn't. I came here first and foremost to apologize to you. What I did that night was reckless and stupid and I shouldn't have provoked you like I did. Now, clearly, it wasn't a one-sided incident, but… But I have spent the last two and a half months alone and I've hated every second of it. I miss my friend… my _only_ friend. And not only could I not talk to you or see you but all the while I knew you were hurting and I couldn't do anything about it. So, I guess what I'm asking is…" She trailed off, trying to collect her thoughts.

Damon decided to cut her off, fearing whatever she had planned to say. "Elena, I… I wish I could make you feel better about this. I do. But I don't think this is reparable. What happened between us… it shouldn't have happened. As much as I wish we could go back and make different decisions, I also know that sometimes relationships just need to end. Ours was one of them. I appreciate you wanting to help me, but it's not your place to. It never has been. I'm sorry I screwed up that night, but even if I hadn't, I would have cut you out regardless."

Elena swallowed. They sat in silence for a solid minute before she spoke again. "Does Rose know?"

She didn't have to be specific. "No," Damon replied firmly. He could sense she'd been carrying that guilt for a while. "Calling off the wedding had _nothing_ to do with you."

Elena nodded once, picking at a loose string on her jeans. More silence filled the room as she steadied herself. Her voice shook slightly as she spoke. "Well, I also came to tell you that… I'm leaving."

Damon's chest tightened in response to her words. "Are you… are you going back home?"

Elena released a sad laugh. "God, no. I'm…" She took a deep breath, a small smile on her face. "I'm going to do what I wanted to all this time: move to LA and become an actress."

Damon's lips parted in surprise. "You're dropping out of college?"

"Might as well," she replied calmly. "I'm on academic probation after failing the majority of my classes last semester. Just got the Dean's official letter yesterday, but I already had a pretty good idea."

Damon let out a shocked noise. "Elena, you're kidding, right?"

She shook her head fiercely, surprise taking over her own features at his disbelief. "Not at all. Damon, I _hate_ college. I don't want to be there anymore."

"You're eighteen years old! You can't move to LA by yourself."

"Well, moving by _myself_ was kind of a last resort!"

Damon's entire body tensed from the blow. He leaned away from her as he processed her outburst. "When did you… you thought I was going to go with you?"

Elena sighed. Her voice was meek. "I thought, if I could convince you to forgive me, you might consider it."

Damon scoffed in skepticism, letting out a bitter laugh. "Just because you're living in your little fantasy doesn't mean everyone else is going to join you."

Fire rushed into Elena's eyes at his cruel words. "Yeah, well. It was just another delusion from the stupid little girl who had your tongue down her throat a few months ago."

Damon chose to ignore the juvenile remark. "I have no idea how you could possibly think I would go along with something this crazy."

"Because, Damon, you're just like me!" Elena's voice took on a pleading tone, her eyes desperate to convey how serious she was. "There's _nothing_ holding us back. No Rose for you. No college for me. We're both miserable here. I can see it in you so don't bother denying it. You could get a job in LA, be a real lawyer, and work on cases that actually mean something. I can finally be where I've always wanted to be, do what I've always wanted to do. I don't know about you, but I'm sick and tired of wallowing at rock bottom. I have the opportunity to do something so ridiculously crazy because I have nothing else to lose."

Damon leaned back into the couch, closing his eyes. He knew he needed to get Elena out of the house before she screwed with his head anymore. But his strategizing was interrupted when Elena made her final appeal.

"I guess you're just more content than I thought."

Damon's eyes shot open as the glass shattered.

"_You're too content... You were completely fine living this average life. You didn't want to go anywhere, do anything!"_

Damon stood, his heart beating slightly faster than normal. He strode to the center of the room and ran his hands through his hair, nearly yanking the strands out of his head.

"Damon, are you alright?" Elena's voice from behind sounded like he was hearing it underwater. The blood was now rushing through his veins and pounding in his ears.

"_You might have been complacent, Damon, but you've never been weak. You don't want to go down like this. You want the victory. And if you leave this two-bit town and go make something of yourself in a city that actually matters, you might just do that."_

He let out a loud exhale as every awkward situation he'd encountered since Rose left him ran through his mind like a ticker. He remembered the shame in his father's face when he'd told him he couldn't leave, the pity in Rose's when he'd lost it in front of her. Images of little kids playing at Rose's feet that weren't his, the whispers anytime he went out in public… they wouldn't stop.

Damon's gaze fell on Elena, sitting in a chair that was almost comically big for her small frame. Her eyes were wide thanks to his frantic pacing and distressed appearance. Her vision, her hopeless dream suddenly seemed perfect. Ideal, even. Sure, she was probably going to fall on her ass within the month, but she'd learn soon enough how misguided she was. But Damon… he could finally get out of this town, away from all the judgmental faces, and he wouldn't have to do it alone. And, all the while, he could fulfill the needs of his long-forgotten inner good guy. Damon needed that part of his identity back more than he needed air to breathe and helping Elena would be the perfect way to lure it back.

Damon took a deep breath, feeling his decision settle in his bones. His head slowly nodded up and down and he suddenly knew exactly what to say.

"Why not?"

* * *

For years, Damon would say that her smile in that moment was brighter than all of the city lights combined.


	7. March 2007

**Holy cow! An 8,000+ word chapter. It's like I love you guys or something ;)**

**This chapter drained the life out of me and took up almost 20 pages of a word document so I'm interested to see what you think of it. Fair warning: there's a bit of a time jump that takes place as you can see by the date, but I try to explain what's gone down in between. I'll talk a little bit more at the end, but hope you enjoy!**

* * *

**March 2007:**

"_It is essential that we realize once and for all that man is much more of a sex creature than a moral creature. The former is inherent, the other is grafted on." – Emma Goldman_

"You've never been to the beach?"

Elena rapidly shook her head, sliding her socked feet back and forth on the hardwood floor as she sucked salt off of her thumb. Damon was pouring the latest batch of popcorn into a large bowl at the breakfast bar, but had halted completely at the latest reveal.

"How is that even possible?" He balked, his mouth hanging open in shock.

Elena shrugged, hopping up to cross the living room. She headed into the kitchen for a water bottle. "Blame it on strict parents and an inland hometown. LA is the farthest away from home I've ever been. I think I was only ever out of the state once or twice, and that was to just visit relatives."

Damon let out a low whistle, finishing his task. They headed back to the couch they'd been settled in for almost two hours with their respective items. "Well, then. Guess we have plans for tomorrow."

Elena frowned, grabbing a handful of popcorn. "What happened to job searching for you and auditions for me?"

"Come on, we're running ourselves ragged, Elena." It was true. They definitely couldn't be faulted for lack of trying. Damon interviewed with about two firms a week while Elena had attended at least fifty auditions over the nearly two months they'd been there. But, alas, Hollywood hadn't been quite as welcoming as expected. Damon was still without a job and Elena had only booked one: a low-budget commercial that was scrapped two weeks before it was meant to air.

Thankfully, Giuseppe's offer was keeping them afloat for the time being. Once Damon had informed him of his plans to leave, his father had practically thrown money at them. Since Damon and Elena had chose to not take too much with them, they'd been able to get into the fully furnished apartment Giuseppe had provided the day they flew in. They would have total financial support for the first year if they needed it. But after every missed audition and failed interview, that cut-off date sounded more and more disturbing.

Elena sighed. "It's not that bad."

Damon cocked his eyebrows. "Really? Let's talk about how you grabbed a bottle of _olive oil_ instead of water." Elena's eyes widened as she looked at her hand, letting out a disbelieving giggle. "You want to blame that on something other than exhaustion?"

Elena shook her head rapidly. "Swear to God, I would have taken a _sip_ of that if you hadn't warned me." She pushed herself off of the couch to fix her mistake. "Alright, fine. We _might_ need a break."

She could practically feel Damon's victorious grin burning into her back. "Perfect. You can't live in southern California and not go to the beach. We'll head to Malibu tomorrow."

Happy thoughts of sun and sand and breaking waves flooded Elena's mind as she made her way back. But before she could reach the couch, she abruptly stopped as she realized a brand new problem.

"What's wrong?" Damon asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Elena flushed slightly under his scrutinous gaze. "We might have a _bit_ of an issue with the whole 'beach thing.'"

"What is it?" Damon's eyes widened as he entertained a thought. "Wait, can you not swim?"

"No, no. I was taught how to swim. Too many bodies of water nearby. They didn't want the kids to drown." Elena paused, her gaze shifting downwards. "This is a more _technical_ one."

"I can't really read your mind so you're going to have to fill in the blank yourself," Damon replied.

Elena prepared herself to reveal the somewhat embarrassing truth. "I don't own a swimsuit."

Damon coughed loudly after having mistakenly taken a sip of his beer as she'd answered. "You're joking." He shot back.

"I don't think I've owned a swimsuit since I was _eight_."

Damon shook his head back and forth in disbelief. A mischievous smirk, one that Elena had only witnessed a few times since they'd moved, formed on his face. "Let me guess. Ol' 'Jesus-ville' didn't allow bikinis?"

Elena's face reddened significantly at the remark. She quickly went back to her position on the couch, making sure to place herself on the complete opposite end. "Um, no. Not really."

She could feel Damon's teasing stare on her for nearly thirty seconds before he picked up the remote again. He un-paused the latest episode of Law and Order: SVU they'd been engrossed in, but not before he made one last remark that made Elena's entire body tense.

"Well then, we're adding a shopping trip to tomorrow's schedule. I, for one, can't _wait_."

* * *

"Damon, stop that."

Damon laughed, grinning like a Cheshire cat as Elena smacked his hand away from the lacy underwear he'd picked up. He'd been entertaining himself by wandering through the overpriced lingerie store while she'd been trying on suits.

"You know, I'm totally fine if you want to get some panty shopping done, too."

Elena rolled her eyes, fumbling with the item in her hand. "Two things. Number one: you know how much I hate the word 'panty,' so stop. And two: is becoming a sexually flirtatious man-boy part of your breakup healing?"

Damon's face fell at her insinuation. Regardless of how long it had been since Rose had left him, it still stung slightly whenever she was brought up. He didn't necessarily think his comments were out of character for him. He'd made plenty of salacious remarks in the past, but they'd been to Rose. And now, since she was the only woman in his life, Elena had ended up on the receiving end of the habit. It was an irksome coping mechanism, but he was satisfied with how comfortable their relationship had become, especially given how awkward the first few weeks had been. He definitely didn't want to rock the boat for even a second.

"I'm not actually going to act on anything," he replied defensively. "Don't get your _panties_ in a twist." Elena growled as he smirked. "Now, let's see what you're getting."

He noticed a flash of guilt cross her face for a moment before she shook it away. Damon grabbed the coral Lycra fabric from her arms. "That was the only one I liked," she mumbled.

Damon shot her a look, holding the top up so he could see. "A _tankini_? You're killing me here."

"It looks fine on me!"

"I don't doubt it looks _fine_ on you, Elena." Damon sensed another inappropriate comment brewing so he attempted to placate her more platonically. "You're not exactly rocking a bad body." He threw the garment back on a nearby rack despite her protest. "Did you even _look_ at a bikini?"

"I didn't like any of them," she replied.

Damon scoffed. "No, you didn't like how you _looked_ in them. There's a difference."

He noticed something flame up in her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. "That's not true."

An idea formed in Damon's head at the intensity of her protest. He tried to keep a poker face as he continued. "Yeah, you did. You're a woman. You got all vulnerable, thought you looked fat. The usual. It's fine. You can just wear a t-shirt and shorts to the beach like all of the other insecure girls."

Elena's eyes widened so significantly it took everything in Damon to hold back a laugh. "Excuse me. I can _rock_ a bikini. That wasn't the problem."

"Fine. Prove it. Put one on and show me."

Damon knew Elena wasn't stupid. She wouldn't actually fall for his reverse psychology. But regardless, he noted her resolve to play along. "Fine," she shot back without hesitation.

His eyes sparkled as he ran his hand along the adjacent rack. "How about…. _this_ one?" Damon couldn't resist chuckling at the shocked expression on her face as she took in the bright white string bikini.

Clearly she wasn't _totally_ game for anything. "No. I pick." Elena turned on her heel, pointing in the direction of the dressing room. "You can wait in a chair like all the other pervy boyfriends."

Damon smirked. "Gladly," he called out after her. Thankfully, the store was unusually un-crowded so they would have the area to themselves.

He sat patiently in his chair until she came back, guarding the items in her hands so that he wouldn't see in advance. "Those better be bikinis," he cautioned.

"They are," she sung out, slamming the door of the stall closed behind her. Damon shifted in his chair, feeling a sense of anticipation take over him. He was pretty sure the most amount of skin he'd ever seen on Elena was from a pair of pajama shorts. Maybe at one point there'd been a tank top that had shown a slight amount of cleavage. Beyond that, she dressed fairly conservatively. Since they lived in a two-bedroom apartment with separate bathrooms, there had been little opportunity for him to accidentally see her half-dressed.

But as he saw her jeans fall to the floor through the small amount of space visible underneath the door, a sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

What the hell was he doing?

This was _Elena_. Yes, they'd had that ridiculous kiss he made every effort to not consider when he looked at her. And sure, it wasn't like he'd never thought of her _that way_. But this was way too much. Elena was literally modeling a bikini for him so she could prove that she looked hot in one. She was an eighteen year old girl with a penchant for being emotionally damaged and he was a twenty-five year old with the exact same. This was crossing a line that he just couldn't reason away.

Damon shot up, trying to form an excuse to get out of the now seemingly suffocating room. But before he could tell her he needed to go grab a coffee or something equally mundane, the door swung open and Elena came out… wearing nothing but a revealing swimsuit

Her expression was a mix of defiance and apprehension. She, like Damon, had obviously lost a fair amount of confidence since the actual challenge. Of course, Damon was being generous to say he was focused on her face.

In a twisted way, the bikini was basically Elena in swimsuit form: sweet but still frustratingly appealing. It was pink with white polka dots, a white frill adorning the tops of both pieces. The _most_ tempting part stemmed from the underwire cups, hosting two pieces of Elena's anatomy that Damon had never been so familiar with.

"Now would you care to tell me I'm not rocking this?" She contested meekly. Damon could barely comprehend the question, his eyes still scanning over her olive skin as his mouth went dry.

"Oh, you're definitely rocking that." The distinctively male voice was enough to shake Damon out of his reverie. His head whipped around to the guy who had just entered. He was in his twenties and Damon really hoped that he had a female companion somewhere else in the store. Regardless, the guy's blatant come-on was making both Elena and Damon incredibly uncomfortable.

Damon shot the guy a deadly glare, indicating he needed to leave as soon as he possibly could. Once the pervert had scampered off, he turned his attention back to Elena. He quickly determined that was a mistake. Damon needed her back in normal clothes as soon as possible.

"Yeah, you look great. Now let's buy it and go." Damon was suddenly grateful that their day had had a late start and they'd had to delay their beach trip for some other unforeseen weekend. He could at least have another few weeks before he'd be subjected to seeing her so exposed again.

Frustration marred Elena's features at his undesired response. "What's your problem?"

"My _problem_ is that Pervy McPervpants is wandering through the store," Damon hissed. "and I think it's best to get you out of here and clothed quickly."

Elena's eyes lit up in fear slightly at the intensity of his words. Damon wasn't even close to freaked out by the guy, but his desire to get out of the dressing room made his statement seem harsh. He didn't feel too bad about it, though. If fear put her back into those jeans, then fear is what he'd have to use.

"Fine," she mumbled, although decidedly less heated, as she walked back into the small stall.

Damon let out a sigh of relief once she was safely out of his sight. He hated seeing her like he just had. All of those provocative comments and occasional glances had morphed into something a lot bigger than he'd realized. There was no way in hell he could get involved with Elena, no matter how vivid the imagery was when she'd stepped out in that swimsuit.

He made his way back into the main part of the store, needing to take a breath. Thankfully, the staring guy had left. His thoughts, unwillingly, drifted to Rose. Rose was the only woman he'd ever slept with and now, after being thrown out on his ass into the world of being a bachelor, he had almost zero comprehension of how to have a sexual identity outside of her. He wasn't the type of guy who would immediately get into bed with ten different women the second he was single. In fact, the very idea of trying to date or be in a new relationship made his head ache.

Sexual fantasies, thoughts, or dreams… they could be dealt with. But there was no way in hell he could ever actually _act_ on any of them with Elena. A part of him realized it wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility, but the better part recognized just how bad of an idea it really was.

First of all, the age and experiential difference between the two was staggering. Sure, Damon wasn't some douchebag who prided himself in his sexual prowess, but he was sure as hell of a lot farther down the path than her. Her first and only kisses had been with him.

Secondly, each had some strict emotional baggage. Elena, with her orthodox upbringing, and Damon's betrayal by the one woman he ever loved made them quite the overly strung out pair. Both were left with blank slates once they'd moved to LA and Damon realized they had a lot to figure out about themselves over the next few months. Trying to put those two ticking time bombs into a relationship was like locking a lion and a tiger into a small room. Someone was going to end up torn apart and Damon was pretty sure it wouldn't be him.

Finally, they were partners. Elena was chasing her near impossible dream and Damon was trying to make something for himself outside of his small hometown. They relied on each other. Elena needed protecting, a guardian in the big, bad city, and Damon needed something reliable, something familiar. If he ever tried to tarnish that with something sexual, he would screw them both over. It was better for everyone involved if they maintained a familial, platonic relationship. Nothing more, nothing less. It was simple.

Elena came from behind him, the previous anger long gone. "Alright, let's go." Damon's gaze followed her denim-clad backside as she headed towards the counter.

Yeah, it was definitely going to be harder than it seemed.

* * *

Damon let out a loud groan as he stepped into the apartment complex's elevator. Another day, another interview that made him feel like a worthless piece of shit. At least the guy had told him before the thing was even over that he wasn't getting the job offer. No point in wasting time hoping for the impossible.

Now, he was obligated to play nice with their new neighbor. Elena had invited the guy over for drinks last week, making sure to indicate that Damon was "thrilled" to meet another man his age. The fact that Elena was basically setting him up on a play date made him want to barf, but at least there was alcohol involved. He could easily play along for that.

Yet, much to his surprise, the expected company was already over by the time he arrived. Elena was giggling from the stool at the breakfast bar, "new guy" seated next to her nursing a beer.

Damon chucked his keys on the dining room table, forcing a faked smile for their guest. "Hey. I'm sorry I'm late. I thought this was supposed to be at seven."

Elena shot him a glare at the slight dig, but the guy just laughed. "Yeah, sorry about that. Work is kicking my ass lately and I knew I needed to get back to some stuff early. I came by to say I wouldn't be able to make it, _but_ your lovely roommate here informed me that pushing the drinks forward wouldn't be a problem."

Elena's stare dared Damon to challenge her, but he was too tired to even attempt a go at that tornado of crazy. Damon sighed and made his way into the kitchen towards the small supply of bottles lined up on the counter. "Well, that's totally fine. I just feel bad that you got stuck with a girl who made you drink _beer_. Would you like some bourbon?"

Elena flushed as their neighbor chuckled. "That would be _fantastic_ on any other occasion, but since I have to head for the office after this, I should probably only have a slight buzz. Safe driving and all." He stuck his hand over the counter towards Damon. "Nice to meet you, by the way. I'm Alaric."

* * *

"God, I just cannot _believe_ how lucky this is. I mean he basically _handed_ you a job!"

Elena had wandered back into the living room, now decked out in flannel pajama pants and grey t-shirt, her hair in a messy bun on the top of her head. Damon sighed, wiping down the counter one last time from his half-assed attempt at dinner, before chucking the towel in the laundry basket near the entrance to his room.

"Yeah, well, if only it was in a field I'd actually deign to work in."

Elena flunked down on the couch, picking a piece of lint off of her shirt absentmindedly. "It will be okay, Damon. If you want to make it temporary until you find one you actually like, that's fine. Besides, who knows? You may love it."

Damon halted in his movements, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared at Elena. "Um… Elena? There's no way in hell I'm going in for that interview."

Elena let out a slight disbelieving laugh. "Um, yes you are. It's basically a guaranteed hiring."

"Um, no I'm not. The only thing 'basically guaranteed' is misery."

After socializing for about half an hour or so, Alaric had revealed the occupation that was forcing him to return to the office so late: entertainment lawyer. To put it frankly, he protected celebrities whenever they got divorced or in trouble. Throw in a few restraining orders and the occasional disputes between production companies and you had yourself a career. Elena's eyes had lit up at the first mention of the word "lawyer" and she was immediately selling Damon as if she were his agent. Alaric mentioned that the firm was desperate for someone with more corporate experience and when Elena had mentioned where Damon had gone to school, Alaric threw him a business card. Apparently one of the partners was an alumnus of the university and donated frequently. Alaric said that there was no doubt in his mind that one look at Damon's résumé and he'd be hired.

"I'm not going to waste my time playing babysitter to a bunch of immature, good-for-nothing famous people!"

Elena was still stuck on the couch, eyes widened in shock. "Damon, Alaric is essentially _giving_ you a job. I mean the salary alone-"

"I'm not a lawyer for the _cash_, Elena. I do it because I love what I do. If I worked for that kind of soul-sucking firm, I'd hate myself. I'd come home miserable every single day!"

"You don't know that!"

"Yes, I do! And you can't just work at a firm temporarily. It's not that kind of job. You make commitments, contracts."

"Well, then fine! You get your feet on the ground, build up your experience, and then quit after a few years."

"A few _years_?" Damon was becoming more frustrated by the second. "Elena, how are we even having this conversation? I told you I'm not taking the job! It's absurd that you think you have any say over this!"

Elena shot up and met Damon where he was standing. Her voice lowered until it was chillingly firm. "Damon, when I chose to move out here, I came here to do what I love. And that was to be an actress. Would it be fabulous if, on my first day here, I'd been offered some fabulous movie role or reoccurring television character? Of course! But I recognize that I have little experience and a lot of factors going against me. So I take every opportunity to audition as seriously as the damn plague and I work my ass off to do the best job possible, even if all I'll be doing is selling a damn fruit juice! I do it because _soon_ I will get the chance to play fabulous characters and at least, along the way, I'm doing what I love. So pardon me for not feeling sympathetic for your damn cause because you want to be picky about whom you're seeking justice for. Let me know when you're offered a job that is perfectly suited to your every whim and fancy. Meanwhile, I'll be sitting around counting all of the fucking cash growing on our own personal money tree!"

Damon held her furious gaze for a few moments before she spun on her heel and rushed into her room, slamming the door hard enough to make him flinch. He let out a large exhale, running his hand over his face.

His earlier resolve was faltering after her rant. He would be lying if what she said hadn't been logical. Elena was doing everything in her power to contribute to the household and her job market was even riskier than his. He knew she was freaking out about their income situation, even though their deadline wasn't for another nine months or so. And it wasn't as if his interviews were increasing in quality _or_ quantity. He was running out of places to go. Having that advantage of knowing and befriending a partner in a successful firm was an opportunity he would probably not have again for a long time.

Then his mind drifted to his original motivation for heading out west: "winning" against Rose. Damon wasn't exactly sure of the salary he'd get, but it was fairly obvious it would be one pretty number. And if he were working with such well-known figures, his name would probably grace the papers at least once or twice. A small smirk formed as he imagined Rose's face if she ever came across it. Her life would amount to staying in that one-horse town and having some kids while Damon was living a life of luxury working for the elite and influential.

Damon knew the motivation was crap, but if it was enough to keep him working for the next year or so, he could deal with it. Plus, Alaric was nice enough and he didn't seem like the elitist douchebags Damon was picturing. To top it all off, it would make Elena happy. And Damon knew Elena, with all of the fruitless auditions she'd gone through in the past few weeks, needed to be happy.

Damon took one last deep breath before solidifying himself in his decision and crossed over to Elena's door. After knocking and hearing a meek "Come in," he pushed it open.

Damon's mouth lifted into a half-smile at her small body curled up on her bed, but it faded when he saw the tear tracks on her cheeks. He sighed as she stared at him with pitiful eyes, not even bothering to hide or cover up her distress.

"I'll go in for the interview."

Like a bullet, Elena shot up from her place and rushed towards him, causing an inelegant sound to fall from his lips when she collided with him. Her arms wrapped tightly around his waist as she buried her head into his chest.

He met her embrace, his hands firmly placed on her back, as he shifted slightly, creating what felt like a peaceful rocking motion. "That doesn't necessarily mean I'll get the job."

"Bullshit," Elena mumbled into his shirt and he chuckled. As he smoothed his hands over her cotton tee, he recognized, startlingly, that this was the first time he'd ever hugged Elena. Sure, they'd kind of skipped right over that with that unmentioned kiss in her dorm room and he recalled the occasional "arm draped over the top of the couch" when she sat next to him, but in the nearly eight months he'd known her, three of which they'd been roommates, they'd never once shared a hug. He sighed again, placing a kiss into her hair.

It was one of the first times he realized how truly whipped he was for this one girl.

* * *

"You couldn't be sexy if you tried."

Elena felt all of the color rush from her face. She'd just finished up an audition for a television show, one she'd been lucky just to stand in line for, and instead of the typical "Thank you. We'll be in touch." the casting agent had immediately told her that there was no chance in hell she would get the part. Elena, realizing it was a unique opportunity, decided to ask him why that was the case, regardless of the searing rejection she felt. But now, she was wishing she had just walked away.

"Excuse me?" She stuttered, trying not to sound as offended as she felt.

"You have the sex appeal of a piece of cold shrimp," he replied in an accent she'd yet to determine. "There's no way you could play 'fuckability.'"

Elena's heart started racing at his degrading words. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to vomit or cry. Never in her life had she felt this horrible about herself.

Elena made one last attempt at saving face, trying to be as professional as she possibly could. "Do you have any tips for how I could fix that?"

The agent wasn't even deigning to look at her anymore, his two associates on either side of him appearing just as bored. "Yeah, lose fifteen pounds, get some plastic surgery, and buy me about ten drinks. Then maybe you could get it up."

Elena knew she was about five seconds from bawling her eyes out so she muttered a quick "Thank you for your time" and raced out of the room. Even though it was humiliating to walk into a lobby filled with about fifty other girls and start to cry, Elena couldn't stop herself. Tears streamed down her face, and it didn't help that the women she was rushing past all looked as if they should be on a runway.

When Elena got to her small car in the parking deck, another gift from Giuseppe, she lost it, breaking into sobs the second the door was closed. She was nearing what must have been her seventieth audition and she was getting nowhere. And now, after the casting director's lovely "advice," Elena realized why.

She wasn't hot. It wasn't as if Elena was completely naïve to the idea. She was, after all, a young girl. A day didn't go by where she didn't have some sort of insecure thought. She wasn't exactly rocking the perfect body and she knew she looked slightly younger than her age. But she didn't think she was _hideous_.

How could she stand out in these countless auditions when every girl that walked in after or before was practically flawless? If she couldn't get some overweight middle-aged man interested in her, how would she convince anyone to hire her?

Elena sniffled a few more times, calming herself down. Thankfully, she had nothing scheduled for the rest of the day and could head straight home. At least she knew there was someone waiting at the apartment that could make her feel better.

* * *

Damon smiled as he heard the front door open from behind him. "Hey, I just made some coffee. Do you want a cup?" He finished pouring his own as he watched her settle at the dining room table.

"Um, yeah. Sure." She propped her elbow on the table and leaned her head into her palm, slightly rubbing circles with her thumb. "Why are you making coffee so late?" she mumbled.

"Well, Alaric wasn't kidding: this job is kicking my ass. I have some paperwork I had to bring home." He poured the steaming liquid into a second mug and grabbed two packets of Splenda for her to pour in. Damon pulled out the chair next to her and placed the cups down. "And before you ask: no, I can't tell you who it's for."

Elena ripped open the small packets and sluggishly poured them in one at a time into her drink. "I know," she muttered. "Lawyer-client confidentiality. I get it."

Damon frowned at her obvious discontent. She looked fairly worn down, but that wasn't too unusual. It was the complete lack of hopefulness and the fact that her eyes seemed lifeless. "Bad audition?" He asked.

Elena simply nodded, taking her first sip.

Damon let out an exaggerated sigh. "Alright, whose ass does big brother have to kick?"

Since Damon had meant for the remark to cheer her up, he was shocked when her expression immediately went cold. "Excuse me?"

"Um…" He felt like he should be apologizing, but he wasn't sure quite for what. "I was kidding. Whatever idiot at the audition that didn't like you is like the playground bully and as your big brother, I'm supposed to beat him up. Since you're like my little sister."

If anything, her gaze grew even more foul after his explanation. She pursed her lips, setting the coffee down on the table. "So, what you're saying is… is that I'm like your cute little sister?"

Damon's eyebrows furrowed. Her reaction was so bewildering that he wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. "I mean it was just a joke, but yeah, I guess."

If Elena were a cartoon character, she would have had billows of steam pouring out of her ears. "So, since you see me as your little sister, that means you're not attracted to me?"

Damon suddenly realized how the dots connected. He knew that it would be a lie for him to say he'd never been attracted to her, but he also remembered the deal he'd made with himself on the day of the bikini incident. Telling her that he found her appealing would only screw up the precarious balance of their relationship. It just wasn't worth the risk or the awkwardness it would cause. He wasn't exactly sure why she looked about ready to deck him for the insinuation, but he knew what he needed to do.

Damon shook his head back and forth. "Yep. Don't get me wrong. You're pretty, but I'm definitely not attracted to you. You're just my friend so I guess the familial analogy works."

He wasn't sure how it was possible, but her eyes became even more enflamed with fury. She let out a bitter scoff. "_Fuck_ you, Damon." Elena abruptly stood up, nearly spilling the full mug of coffee and stomped into her room. The slammed door would make it the second this month, except this time, Damon had no clue how what he'd said could have made her so upset.

He shot up, too, striding over to bang on the door. "Elena, please come out. I don't understand what's going on. Talk to me."

"Go away, Damon!" He could tell she was crying, but when he tested the handle, it was locked.

Damon released a frustrated sigh. He knew pestering her would only piss her off more, but he was still in the dark as to why she'd felt the need to have a breakdown in the first place. He'd made it perfectly clear within the first week of coming to LA that they were to stay friends and that the kiss should be forgotten. Elena had been completely on board and, in fact, was typically the one to roll her eyes or groan whenever Damon had made some harmless innuendo. So, why would him saying he wasn't attracted to her be so damn offensive?

"Hey, Elena." His voice came out in a defeated tone. "I'm going to go ahead and cook dinner. I'll leave a plate outside your door so that you can still eat without having to come out, but I do think we should talk at some point tonight. Okay?" There was no response on the other side of the door so Damon decided it was best to walk away.

When he got back in the kitchen, he began making what he knew was one of her preferred meals. It was a pretty cheesy method of trying to gain back her favor, but if he'd learned anything over the years of being engaged to Rose it was that the more irrational the female anger, the more irrational the way you had to win her back. Maybe pasta would do the trick.

But apparently fate was not on his side. "Shit," he mumbled as he opened the cabinet. He'd forgotten he'd finished off the last of the olive oil a few days earlier and he would be disgracing his Italian heritage if he tried to make the dish without it. His gaze drifted over to a decorative bottle of olive oil on the top of the cabinetry. It, along with a painting of some unspecified European countryside, was placed in the upper corner.

Regardless of Damon's height, the bottle was definitely out of his reach. His first instinct was to get Elena in there so that he could lift her by the waist and _she_ could grab it, but he suspected she wouldn't be in that helpful of a mood. And after a quick mental inventory, he realized the house had neither a step stool nor a ladder of any size.

Damon's gaze drifted over to the breakfast bar, behind which the stools sat. "Perfect," he muttered, walking over to grab one of the oak fixtures. Damon positioned it in front of the place he'd need to stand and kicked off his shoes. But after climbing up and finding his balance, he groaned. He was about six inches too far from the cabinet.

Experimentally, he reached his hand out to test if he could reach it without having to readjust. He grimaced in his efforts as he leaned over, trying to stay stabilized. But as soon as his fingers skimmed the sides of the glass bottle, he felt the stool wobble and then give out from underneath him. Before he could fully comprehend what had happened, he was on the ground with a searing pain originating from his foot.

"Fuck!" Damon cried out, all of the nerves in his leg on high alarm over the accident. He went to clutch at the lower half of his knee, but the second his hand touched skin, the pain intensified.

Elena was in the kitchen only seconds later. Thankfully, she hadn't been too absorbed in her distress to miss the loud crash his body had made with the tiled floor. "Oh my god, Damon. What happened?"

"I'm a fucking idiot. That's what happened. Holy shit!" He scrunched his eyes together as another jolt rushed through his ankle.

Even with his eyes closed, he sensed a sudden hesitation on Elena's part. "Okay, um… can you hold on one second?"

Damon's eyes shot open, meeting her uneasy expression. "What do you mean 'hold on?' I need to go to the hospital!" It was true. He was starting to see spots and he was having a sneaking suspicion something was broken.

"Damon, just hold on!" She screamed, shooting up from her position and racing out of the kitchen. Damon groaned again, the shock now setting in. The once sharp pain was becoming a dull throb that felt like a different form of hell. But he was quickly distracted from it a few moments later when he heard a flush from the back of the house.

Elena was back in a few moments, a phone in her shaky hands. She looked exorbitantly panicked, but Damon was still pissed off about what he'd overheard.

"Did you seriously just go _pee_ before you helped me?!" He hissed.

Elena was already on the line with 911. "Hello, yes. My friend just fell and broke his foot. It's really bad." She covered the receiver with her hand and turned her attention back to him. "I didn't go _pee_, Damon. I had to barf."

Her attention went back to the response of the operator as Damon furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, his gaze drifting down to where the break was. "What do you mea-?"

But before he could question why she would need to throw up, he was met with a foot at an angle that was about seventy degrees from where it should be. And it was the last thing he saw before he blacked out.

* * *

"Do you need anything else?"

Elena had been frantically trying to make him comfortable since they'd gotten home from the hospital a few minutes earlier. Damon hadn't woken up until he was in a bed with doctors surrounding him as they tried to repair what had been broken. The pair hadn't gotten back home until nearly twelve hours later, one now sporting a pretty ugly cast. Elena had placed him on the couch, called his office to let them know he'd have to miss a day thanks to the pain medication, and gotten him some tea he didn't plan on drinking.

"Yeah, some scotch would be fantastic."

Elena frowned, shifting in her stance. "You know you can't mix your meds with alcohol."

"I'm kidding, Elena." Now that her maternal instincts were no longer needed, he noticed that she was falling back into her previous anger with him. She suddenly looked like she'd rather gouge her eyeballs out than stay in the small living room any longer. "Now that I'm _literally_ a broken man, can you at least talk to me about earlier?"

Elena sighed. "There's nothing really to talk about, Damon. You find me completely unattractive. That's all there is to it."

"I didn't say you were _unattractive_. I said I wasn't _attracted_ to you. What I don't get is why it upset you so much. I thought we agreed at the beginning of all of this that we weren't going to get involved beyond friendship."

"I'm not trying to sleep with you, Damon! I just think it's a little absurd that you're going to say there's not a _single_ part of you that's attracted to me. Am I that repulsive?"

"Come on, Elena. You know you're good-looking."

"Apparently not!"

Damon let out a groan. The idea of lying to salvage their relationship was starting to become less and less tempting. "It's not about _how_ you look. You're my friend. That's the only way I see you."

"You're lying!"

"No, I'm not."

"_Really_? Then how do you explain the kiss?"

Damon scowled. "I thought we _also_ agreed that we wouldn't put any meaning behind that."

Elena scoffed. "No! We agreed we wouldn't let it _affect_ us. But you can't say you aren't attracted to me even _slightly_ when you chose to make out with me five months ago!"

"I'm telling you, Elena, you're putting _way_ more meaning into that than you should."

Damon could see the wheels slowly start turning in her head. "So, there's _nothing_ I could do to make you find me sexually appealing in any way, shape, or form?"

Now Damon was about five thousand miles away from the truth, but his building frustration with her and stubborn personality refused to let him break. Even if it meant she'd bitch him out and slam the door for a third time, he couldn't care less. He was going to win whatever twisted battle it was that she'd invented. "Nope," he replied, adding an extra layer of disdain to his tone. "Not a damn thing."

"Alright," Elena countered. Then, swiftly, she sauntered up to where he was seated, grabbing the two crutches that were leaned against the couch, and threw them across the room.

Damon balked. "What the hell was that for?"

Elena smirked. "I'd like you to stay right where you are for a little bit."

"It's not impossible for me to get to them. My foot's broken. I'm not paralyzed."

"No, but your doctor told me that if you put even the _slightest_ bit of weight on that foot for the first day or so, you'll start crying like a little girl over how badly it hurts. So let's just say you're stuck."

Damon knew she was right, and his frustration mounted. "Come on, Elena. Stop screwing around."

"You were going to sit on the couch anyways. Quit whining." And with that, Elena turned and headed into her room.

"Elena!" Damon shouted once more, without luck. He let out a groan. He knew how long Elena's grudges could last and he really hoped she'd forgive him before he had to pee or something along those lines. Of course, on top of her punishment, the remote for the television was just out of his reach. As he leaned forward to grab for it, a flash of white in his peripheral suddenly distracted him.

And when he focused his attention on it, he actually couldn't breathe.

Elena was now leaned over the coffee table in the center of the room wearing the bright white string bikini from the lingerie store and nothing else. The same exact one Damon had jokingly offered up for her to try on. After only a few seconds of staring at her, he was half-hard and ready to take back every word he'd said.

"You've got to be _kidding_ me," he groaned.

Elena picked up a magazine, acting as if walking around in a bathing suit was a normal, every day occurrence. "What's wrong?" She asked innocently, settling into the chair on the other side of the room and crossing her legs. She began flipping through the pages haphazardly, barely even sparing him a glance.

Damon was now desperately clinging to his control, not that he had much of a choice. She was a good eight feet away from him. "When did you buy that?" He replied as calmly as he could.

Elena let out an exaggerated sigh. "Well, I went back and bought it as a birthday gift for you, _but_, since you just told me there's absolutely not a _single_ part of you that's attracted to me, I realize it wouldn't be appreciated." Her head shot up from the pages, a satisfied and smug smirk adorning her features. "I mean it's not like you're suddenly regretting your stubborn clinging to a lie right now or something. You're practically _gay_ when it comes to me, right?"

"Come on, Elena," Damon snapped. "This is _really_ immature." He knew their age difference was a sore issue for her and he hoped it would be enough to make her crack.

"Hmm, being a jackass to prove a point? Well, I guess we have that in common." The sarcasm was dripping from her words.

"Elena," Damon snarled. "Get dressed."

Elena threw the magazine down on the floor and leisurely uncrossed her legs until her knees were about hip-width apart. Now Damon was faced with a near-perfect view of the miniscule piece of fabric covering the most intimate part of her. His nails dug into his palms as he clenched his fists. "I will… as soon as you admit that you wish you hadn't broken your foot and that you'd much rather be over here, fucking me into the wall."

The sexual tension in the air was so thick, Damon was pretty sure it could snap in half. Fucking Elena into the wall wasn't the first thing he had in mind, but it was definitely on the list. Damon hadn't had sex in almost six months. Not that he'd been incredibly desperate for it. Being dumped after your fiancée cheats on you can put someone in quite the rut. Recently, he'd been considering getting back out there and trying to date for what would really be the first time in his life. But having Elena sitting just out of his reach, taunting him with a body that was barely covered by some flimsy pieces of Lycra, he realized just how long that sexual hiatus had been. And just how badly he wanted it to be over. "No," he hissed.

"You're _really_ going to go with that answer?" Elena countered, standing up.

"_Yes_." The bulge in his pants at this point had to be visible to her, but he wasn't going to back down until he was left with absolutely no self-control. Plus, a part of him was desperate to rile her up just as much as he was.

"Fine." Elena strolled over to Damon, coming to stand directly in front of his knees. Once she'd gotten there, she leaned forward, bracing her weight on her hands as she deliberately placed them on either side of his head. She'd gone from being completely out of his reach to having her face, and body, only two inches from his own. And Damon realized he knew about twenty different positions that wouldn't require him to put weight on his foot at all. "So this does nothing for you?"

He trained his gaze on her face, refusing to glance at the part of her anatomy so prominently displayed for him. Damon wasn't sure what was keeping his hands at his sides, but whatever it was was nearly gone. A bit of satisfaction flooded through him as he realized she was trembling. Obviously, she wasn't _completely_ unaffected by how close they were. "Not a _thing_," he growled.

"Sweet Damon." Her voice sounded like honey and her breath was hot on his face, even though the blood rushing through his head was making it hard to concentrate. "You could make this _so_ much easier if you'd just admit defeat."

The logistical side of him kicked in. If he was so damn worried about ruining their relationship with sex, he needed to get her as far away from him as possible given that he was about five seconds away from yanking her forward and ripping that fucking string apart. He'd have to concede. He would lose the battle in an attempt to win the war.

"Fine," he hissed through gritted teeth. "I'm _attracted_ to you…" She didn't seem totally satisfied with his answer, her patient gaze still focused on him. He let out a frustrated exhale. "… _Sexually_," he finished.

A large grin settled on Elena's face, but she didn't move. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it? And nobody's feelings got hurt."

"So, are we done here?" Just because he'd stopped lying didn't mean he wasn't still ready to have her on the hardwood floor.

"Almost," she replied, the smirk on her face becoming devilish. "You have to look at my tits first."

Yeah, if Damon's ridiculous erection wasn't bad enough, now Elena fucking Gilbert, queen of all that was innocent, was talking like a damn sailor. The only word to describe Damon's level of self-control in that moment was miraculous.

"Excuse me?"

"Just for five seconds or so. I mean they're not two inches from your face for no good reason."

Damon's previous determination was too far-gone and he only maintained it for a few seconds before his gaze ran down her slim neck, her exposed collarbone and sternum to the "tits" covered only by a thin white piece of fabric that Damon was pretty sure was see-through.

Damon's mind was nearly overrun with images of yanking her into his lap and fucking her until she couldn't see straight, thoughts he'd never even come close to with Rose, when he felt Elena's fingers pull his chin back up to meet her face. The heat emanating from her fingertips after the severe amount of teasing she'd dealt him was nearly enough to make him come in his pants, but thankfully, he held himself together.

"Good boy," she smiled. "And they said I couldn't be sexy."

Damon was snapped out of his reverie at her words, if only for a moment. "What?"

The previous dominating confidence disappeared as she realized her blunder, but she shook it off. "Nothing." Her expression quickly shifted back to its previous devilish demeanor. "I'm just so _glad_ we settled this. Now, I am going to take a _long_, hot shower so _you_ can have some alone time." Elena pushed her weight off of the couch and strutted away, her hips swaying with the upmost purpose. "Have fun," she called out, closing and locking the bedroom door behind her.

Damon could barely move, his jaw agape at her words. _Did she just…?_

Yep, Elena had basically commanded him to jack off to the thought of her.

"Holy fuck."

**Did I actually just go there? Yep, I did! ;)**

**So what did you think? I'm pretty insecure about the writing for this chapter so I apologize if it's not up to it's usual standard. Are we happy with the time jump? As I've stated countless times, writing a filler chapter is like death to me and I knew writing about what happened their first two months would be fairly boring. Having to make you guys wait a week for a dull chapter with little plot development and then having to wait _another_ week just to get the next one would suck. I'd much rather just hop right into the action and do a brief summary of what you would have "missed." But let me know what you think!**

**What about Damon's struggle with his attraction to Elena? I think it's definitely something that needed to be considered, especially after that intense kiss a few months back and the fact that they're now living in such close proximity. Regardless of whether either want to act on their feelings, the feelings needed to be addressed and I tried to do that in this chapter... just in a way that was the slightest bit sexier than "the talk."**

**Speaking of which, how'd you like Elena's little show? ;) I loved writing her in this scene. I know it might seem super out of character for sweet innocent Elena, but I think with what that jerk at the audition said to her, she'd have a _lot_ of motivation to break out of her shell. She's stubborn and wanted to win the fight against Damon. Why not make it a game? For those of you that would say she shouldn't know how to be this forward, remember that she spent a good portion of her teenage years watching "real world" movies and television shows, some of which would more than likely contain sexual content. She's not completely oblivious. I also tried to make it clear that she wasn't totally comfortable and when she's faced with the real thing in the future, she's not going to be so self-assured.**

**I think that's it besides Alaric (yay!) and the introduction of Damon's new job. I'd love to hear your thoughts on those two things as well :)**

**Alright, well I desperately need to sleep, but I just really wanted to get this chapter up as early as possible. Again, I apologize for my crappy writing this time around. I hate to think I ruined such a big chapter because of a bad week. Please leave your reviews regardless because I love to hear from you and I really enjoy responding to them as well.**

**Love you guys tons. Update in a week!**


	8. April 2007

**April 2007**

_I'm on the pursuit of happiness._

_I know everything that shines ain't always gonna be gold_

_I'll be fine once I get it, I'll be good_

"Damon, wake up!"

Damon let out a long unflattering groan as Elena bounced up and down on her heels in excitement. The piece of paper in her hand was already crinkled from the enthusiasm.

"_Please_ tell me you're on fire or something equally important," Damon moaned, his head stuffed in his pillow.

"Nope, not in flames. But you're definitely going to want to wake up for this!"

The muscles in his back tensed as he began to shift into a seated position. Elena was choosing to ignore the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt, especially now that his abs were on full display. "Since when do you come into my room?"

Elena became temporarily distracted as she considered his question. Her eyebrows quirked as she glanced around the space. "Have I never been in here?" She mumbled. She swore she'd seen it before, but maybe it was just from the quick glances in the hall when she'd gone into the adjacent laundry room.

Damon pushed some of the mussed hair off of his forehead. "Not since we moved in."

"Oh." Elena's focus almost immediately went back to her original task and she began bouncing again. "_Guess_ what just happened." She had no doubt the grin on her face was practically swallowing her whole.

Damon's eyes widened. "Wait, did you get a part?"

Elena stopped her movements, slightly deflating at his words. "No… well, not _really_."

"What do you mean 'not really?'"

Elena's smile came back in full force as she held up the small post-it note in the air in victory. "I just got a call from one of the producers at the audition yesterday. He said that although he can't give me the role I _auditioned_ for, he's creating another film and… he sees potential! He wants to meet with me tonight to talk about possibly _writing_ a role for me!"

Damon leaned forward, grabbing the post-it note and reading the details she'd written down. "Elena, you understand this is basically how _every_ Lifetime movie starts."

Elena's grin had now completely fallen from her face. Her defensive side flared as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Since when do you watch Lifetime movies?"

Damon didn't glance up from the yellow note. "Elena, I was in a relationship for a _decade_. Do you actually believe that I escaped without seeing one of those horrendous things?"

Elena grimaced. "Point taken." Elena's attention shifted back to the meeting. "It's going to be fine, Damon. Frank Marsh is a well-known and well-respected producer and director. He's not a skeeze."

Damon sighed, handing the note back to her. "It just sounds creepy, Elena. I mean you're meeting at a hotel _bar_."

Elena glanced down at the address and name of the location. "Damon, this isn't some podunk little town back home. This is _Hollywood_. And sometimes you meet for drinks to talk business. Besides, I looked it up. It's classy, not creepy. Plus, we'll be in public the whole time!"

Damon stared her up and down for a moment. "Fine. But I'm going with you."

Elena's eyes widened in panic. "No way! Damon, I'll look ridiculous!"

"You're only eighteen, Elena."

"Yes, _eighteen,_ as in a legal adult who can take care of herself!"

"You basically lived in a _convent_ for the past seventeen years so forgive me if I consider your adulthood to have an asterisk next to it!"

Elena's tone changed into a whine. "Damon, please! There is no _way_ this guy will take me seriously if I have you come with me."

"If he has a problem with me listening in, then I can just sit at the other end of the bar or in a booth. If he's actually a decent guy, then he won't mind."

Elena's eyes wandered over to where the comforter had risen at the end of the bed and a small smirk graced her face. "Actually, Damon, you're right. I would _love_ for you to come. In fact, I don't think you fully understand how happy it would make me to push you around in your wheelchair all night."

Damon's eyebrows furrowed as his gaze flickered down to where Elena's was. "Shit," he mumbled, realizing her eyes were focused on his cast. They both knew the doctor's orders: only the wheelchair outside of the apartment for the first five days.

"Aww," Elena lips morphed into an exaggerated pout as she began speaking in a baby voice. "Is someone embarrassed by his wheelchair?"

"Fine," Damon replied through gritted teeth. "But I'm going to ask Alaric-"

Elena let out a long groan. "Damon, come on! Please just trust me on this. It will be okay! If he starts getting weird, I'll call you _immediately_. Then you can send Alaric or the police or whoever the hell you want to come get me. But I swear everything will be fine." Elena stepped closer to him, her eyes pleading. "This could be my shot, Damon. I'm begging you not to ruin this by being overprotecting."

Damon sighed, breaking almost instantly at her pathetic expression. "Three months out here and you've already nailed the puppy dog face."

Elena giggled, relief rushing through her at his approval, however tenuous. "Thank you, Damon."

"No problem. Just please be smart." Damon paused, shifting in his spot. "Okay, I need to get out of bed now."

"Oh, do you need help or something?"

Damon's forehead crinkled in confusion. Clearly, they weren't on the same page. "It's a few feet, Elena. I can hobble to the bathroom by myself."

"Well… then hobble to it."

A small smile formed on Damon's face. "You sure about that?"

More confusion marred Elena's features. "Yes?"

Damon let out an exaggerated sigh. "Well, alrighty then."

And before Elena could fully grasp what was happening, Damon was up and standing… wearing nothing but his brand-new cast.

"Damon!" Elena screamed, whirling around, her face immediately flushed in embarrassment.

Damon laughed from behind her, highly amused at her reaction. "Well, looky here. Little Miss _Confident_ has clearly left the building."

Elena chose to ignore the dig. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I thought you knew." She could practically feel his nonchalant shrug from behind her.

"Bullshit," Elena grumbled back, eliciting another chuckle from him. "Put some clothes on."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you'd be uncomfortable playing _tits_ for tat."

Elena flushed even more deeply. "That was different. I was just trying to prove a point."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I just did it for fun. I don't have to _prove_ anything."

Elena stiffened slightly, his last sentence causing her mouth to go dry. "What do you mean?"

Damon's breath hit her ear as he leaned in and Elena shuddered involuntarily. "I already know you're attracted to me."

Elena let out a shaky breath at his words. She knew to prove him wrong she'd have to stay and fight, but all she could manage was mumbling an immature "shut up" and rushing out of his room.

Her little stunt had thrown her into the big leagues and she wasn't even _close_ to prepared.

* * *

Elena shifted, adjusting the thin fabric of her sundress out of anxiety. Most of the people sitting around her looked far more professional than she did and Damon's earlier warnings were starting to affect her state of mind. Frank was now ten minutes late and she was beginning to fear it was all a set-up. But before she could continue to panic, a strong, warm hand fell on her bare shoulder.

"There she is," Frank crooned, his voice slightly hoarse. Elena put on her most polite smile, reaching her hand out to meet his shake. "So glad you could make it.'

Yeah, Elena was _definitely_ underdressed compared to his full suit, but she decided to not let it faze her. If she acted like she belonged, then maybe he would believe it.

"Thank you for inviting me," Elena replied as Frank settled on the stool next to her, flicking his hand up nonchalantly to signal the bartender.

"Well, I realize those auditions are _far_ too formal. You barely get a chance to know the actor. And, as I said on the phone, I think you have potential. And I might just have the perfect part for you to showcase it." The bartender's arrival interrupted the conversation. Frank shot her a smile. "Gin and tonic for me. And the young lady will have…"

Elena hesitated. She hadn't thought the whole underage thing through. "Um, just a cranberry and club soda."

She noticed Frank's quirked eyebrow out of her peripheral as the bartender excused himself. "Ah, that's right. You're not quite legal."

Elena shook her head, feeling even more out of place. "Nope. Just turned eighteen last year."

Frank's eyes widened as their drinks were placed down. "Wow. So you're fresh out here, aren't you?"

Elena nodded. She took a sip of her drink, disliking where the conversation was heading. "Yes. My friend and I moved out here at the beginning of the year."

"If I remember correctly, you also have no acting experience."

Elena subtly flinched. "Well, I did a commercial that got cut before it ever aired so I've been on a set. But beyond that… no, I guess you're right."

"Don't worry," Frank chuckled, obviously noting her distress. "I'm not judging. In fact, I find it refreshing. Most of the budding young actresses I meet have been running around this town since they were in utero, _convinced_ they were meant to be a star. You, on the other hand," he paused, taking a sip of his drink. "You seem to have your head on straight."

Elena nodded, although she sensed that his compliment was backhanded. "I wasn't allowed to do anything like this at home. My parents were… _strict_." Something told Elena that her actual home life wasn't something she should share with everyone.

"Well, with such a beautiful daughter I can see why."

Elena recognized that as warning sign number one.

Frank smiled again as he saw her tense. "You act like nobody's ever called you beautiful before."

Elena's lips parted, but she wasn't sure what to say. "I… not often." _Shit. Not smooth, Elena._

Frank nodded, but he, thankfully, left the subject for the time being. "I'm guessing you want to hear the details of this part."

"Yes, I would love to." Elena silently determined to shake it off, placing the confident smile back on her face. She was in a city that operated a hell of a lot differently than anywhere else. She needed to suck it up and pretend she knew just what she was doing.

* * *

Damon's eyes glazed over as he scanned the television channels, desperate for something to keep him awake. He knew he had to stay awake in case Elena needed him and he would be lying if he said the thought of something happening to her wasn't the only thing that forced his eyes to stay open. The pain medication for his foot had already forced him to spend almost the entire day sleeping it off in bed. He'd be able to start the lighter stuff tomorrow, but, for now, he was basically stuck taking a heavy mix of Benadryl and Nyquil.

But just when yet another reality show flickered past his gaze, he was shaken out of his stupor as his phone began to ring. Immediately, Damon lunged for it, adrenaline already pumping through his veins. _That bastard. I knew it._

"Elena-"

"_Damn_… I knew it was too good to be true. Let me guess: girlfriend?"

Damon's eyebrows furrowed. He pulled the phone back from his ear and noted the unrecognizable number. The female voice on the other end of the line was clearly not Elena, but who she was and why she was calling him was still a mystery.

"Uh, I'm sorry?"

"I'd heard you were single around the office, but I guess this 'Elena' girl means that's not the case. Oh well…" The feminine sigh was over exaggerated and it reminded him of some of the women in college who had thrown themselves at him, regardless of his relationship status.

The office… Damon racked his brain trying to recall his female coworkers. He really hadn't been working there long enough to know anyone beyond his boss and Alaric, but he definitely didn't remember this voice. _Maybe it was a wrong number._

"May I ask who's calling?"

"Andie." He could hear the confident smile in her voice. "Andie Star."

* * *

Frank had been going on for nearly twenty minutes when his phone went off. He'd spared almost no detail in describing his ideas for the film and Elena had become completely enthralled. She loved seeing the passion in his eyes as he went through plot line by plot line, character by character. And just when he was about to introduce the role Elena would potentially play, his phone beeped twice.

And with those beeps came warning sign number two.

"Shit," he mumbled, glancing at the screen.

"What is it?" Elena asked.

Frank let out an exaggerated sigh. "Well, I got too caught up in my own ideas… _again_." He provided Elena with an apologetic smile. "I didn't realize this would go so long and my phone just reminded me that I have to call my colleague in the next five minutes or else I'm in some _serious_ trouble."

"Oh, alright." His statement surprised Elena. They'd been at the bar for less than half an hour and he apparently hadn't thought that it would take "so long?" Just how had he expected it to go? "If you need to leave, that's fine."

Frank groaned. "God, I just _hate_ having to leave you hanging. Plus, I don't have a clue when we could possibly meet again. My schedule is insane these days."

Elena's heart sunk. That was basically code for missed opportunity. He was right. They probably wouldn't get the chance to meet again and he'd have to move on with another actress, but there wasn't much she could do.

A small smile lit up Frank's face. "How about this? Why don't you come _with_ me so once the call's over we can just continue the meeting? I'll be able to do it with some peace and quiet and you can entertain yourself with whatever they put in the suite."

Elena's lips parted. "Wait, you need to take the call in… your _hotel room_?"

Frank didn't even seem phased by the question. "Yeah. It's confidential, sweetheart." He paused, regarding her confused expression. "That means nobody else can hear what I have to say."

_Holy fucking shit. _Elena sucked in a breath, feeling the immediate need to cry.

Damon had been totally right. The guy was a _dick_ and now it was blatantly obvious. Choosing to meet in a hotel bar. The subtly inappropriate compliments and digs at her self-confidence. Stopping right before he tells her the only _truly_ important part of the meeting. Renting a hotel room when he lived nearby. It had all been some ploy to get her upstairs with him so she could fuck her way into a job. There were far more rational options for him if he really wanted to continue their meeting and he was just hoping she'd ignore them.

Frank cut off her spiraling. "Is there a problem?"

Elena's hands trembled as she squeezed them together in her lap. "Yes, I… I didn't come here to go to your room with you." She hated how weak she sounded, but she was just thankful she could find the words at all. Her mind was clouded over with the urges to vomit and cry… probably at the same time.

Frank regarded her for a moment before turning his head and scoffing. He finished the rest of his second drink before addressing her again. The sweetness of his previous tone was gone completely. It had been replaced with something far more sinister. "Look, sweetheart. I know you think it might be _cute_ to play all high and mighty, but I don't particularly care to waste my time. You can cut the honorable shit."

Elena's gaze shot up from her knees. "Excuse me?"

He twisted in his seat to directly face her, leaning in until he was far too close for comfort. Elena bit back a gasp at the smell of his breath. Clearly, the drinks they'd shared hadn't been his first of the night. "Some guys might appreciate you pretending that you never do this sort of thing, but I don't care either way. I _am_ hoping this is your first time, however, because your résumé would indicate that you're not very good."

Elena turned her face away, the lump in her throat tightening. She had to get out of there, but she was terrified of what might happen if she ran. He continued regardless. "Besides, you and I both know there's not a snowball's chance in _hell_ you're going to make it in this town unless you spread your legs for it. So, if you really want to be considered for this, I suggest you cut that offended little scowl off of your face and act like this is the fucking fantastic and generous offer that it is."

Elena immediately went to stand up and grab her purse, but a hot hand on her knee held her down. To others in the bar, it would look like the intimate gesture of a significant other, but to Elena, it felt like death. Elena swallowed back tears. "_Please_ let go of me."

"I don't really _feel_ like it-"

"Well, I think you're going to want to anyways."

Both Frank and Elena's gazes ripped over to the stunning brunette seated on the other side of him. Elena had noticed her earlier when she'd walked over, but mostly because she'd drawn so much attention. The amount of men that had approached her, men she'd subsequently shot down, had been alarming, but at the time, Elena had tried to focus back on her conversation with Frank.

Frank's scowl grew deeper as he took in the smirking woman. "_Katherine Pierce_. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Elena's eyebrows furrowed. If she was famous, Elena didn't recognize her.

Katherine smiled. "Well, I _was_ planning on enjoying myself tonight, but then I saw _you_ at the bar with another pretty young thing. Obviously, I knew she wasn't sitting with you because of your dashing good looks or charm, so I just presumed you were fishing and I guess I was right." Her slim fingers lifted a small black box from the bar top. "And wasn't it just my luck that I brought this along?"

Frank's eyes lit up in panic. He lunged for it, but Katherine managed to keep it just out of his reach. "Careful now. Don't make me scream, Frankie."

Elena felt some of her panic lower, even though she was still confused as hell. Katherine, whoever she was, was clearly holding all of the control in this situation and it caused Elena to feel momentarily safe.

As Frank relaxed out of necessity, Katherine tapped her nails along the recorder's edge. "Now, let's see. Which media outlet would you prefer? TMZ? People? Hell, I even think CNN would take a crack at it."

"What the _fuck_ is your problem?" Frank hissed, venom seeping out of his tone.

Katherine's eyes grew cold. "My _problem_ is that you fucked my last client. And we both know that anyone that rides your weak excuse for a dick becomes worthless in this town." Katherine dropped the recorder into her purse. "_But_ I'd say the overall theme here is just that I despise you."

"Give me the recorder!"

"Not a, and I quote, 'snowball's chance in hell.' I'll be saving this one for a rainy day. But I can promise you I won't send it in _tonight_ if you let my client go."

Elena's eyes widened in surprise at Katherine's words. Frank spluttered. "You're saying this bitch is yours, too?"

"Yep. Thankfully, she has better taste and far more potential than the one who deigned to sleep with you. Goodbye, Frank."

Frank uttered a few more curses under his breath, glancing back and forth between Katherine and Elena as if he would be able to find a solution to his problems. When he came up empty, he jumped up from his seat, shooting both a stinging glare.

"Oh, and just remember," Katherine continued. "If you ever come _near_ her again, that recording gets _hand_-_delivered_ to whomever I so desire."

Frank stormed off as Katherine let out a sigh, turning to Elena. "You know if he was actually not _such_ a completely jack wad, you'd have to consider it. He keeps that ass in good condition."

Elena focused on getting her heartbeat down, watching her "savior" settle down in the stool Frank had once occupied. She seemed totally composed compared to Elena's frantic demeanor.

"Thank you so much," Elena sighed, once she'd gotten her breathing to a normal rate. "I _swear_ I had no clue that was going to happen."

Katherine scoffed, taking a sip from the martini she'd dragged over from her original seat. "Obviously. Any producer worth anything would never meet you in a _bar_. That only happens on television or in movies. He's going to meet you in an office like any other normal human being." Katherine's gaze scanned her up and down. "You're new around here, aren't you?"

Elena nodded, cheeks flushed in shame. "Yeah, well. I guess I need to get out of the small-town mindset that everyone is a nice, decent person."

Katherine pursed her lips. "What's your name, new kid?"

"Elena Gilbert."

Katherine smiled. "Elena, what would you say if we made that little lie back there a reality?"

Elena's eyebrows furrowed. "You mean the one about me being your 'client?'"

Katherine nodded in response, taking another sip.

Elena nearly let out a growl, fury rushing through her veins. She took a deep breath to prepare herself. "Look, I get it. I'm the sweet, innocent girl who just hopped off the bus from Iowa. As long as you offer me something shiny, I'll practically kiss your feet. Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not as stupid as I might look. Thanks but no thanks."

She could feel Katherine taking her in as she took a heavy gulp of whatever remained of her drink. "Let's try this again," Katherine purred, without a trace of animosity in her tone. "I do recognize I'm asking you on a night when you're particularly distrustful. Would you like me to represent you and help you become who you came here to be?"

Elena's features were marred in disbelief. "Do you _really_ expect me to believe that a legitimate agent would sign on with a client who they've never even seen perform?"

Katherine laughed. "Oh, honey. I could give a rat's ass if you're a good actress."

"What are you talking about?" Elena groaned. At this point, she was thoroughly exhausted and just ready to go home.

"Here's the deal, Elena. My expertise is in building stars. As long as you do exactly what I say, you will become so fucking famous that you'll be a household name in _Zimbabwe_. And I don't base it off of your _talent_, although the fact that Frank would agree to sleep with you means you at least have something." Elena's confused gaze stopped her. "Oh, don't look so appalled. Frank doesn't sleep with just any bimbo. He gets off on boning girls with actual potential."

Katherine continued. "I'm basically a PR angel. I can spin anything and I can spin it with near perfect timing. Frank knows me _by name_ because I'm damn good at what I do. Now, I'm asking you because you have the raw materials I need and I just happen to be looking for a new client. You have the looks, you _potentially_ have the skills, and you're brand spanking new which means you're a clean slate for me to play with."

"So," Katherine smiled as she slid her business card over to Elena. "You can come meet with me on Monday at eight so we can discuss your future and you can sign yourself over to me or…"

Katherine stood, putting enough money down on the counter to cover all of their drinks and then some. "You can realize two years down the line when you're wiping tables for a living that you missed out on the best damn opportunity you've ever been given."

* * *

Katherine's smile nearly split off her face when she opened her door to greet Elena a few days later. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Ms. Gilbert-" But the smile ceased when she caught a glimpse of the person behind her. "And _company_," she finished, the displeasure blatant in her voice.

Elena met her disappointment with a confident smile as the man hobbled up next to her on his crutches. "Katherine, this is my friend and roommate Damon Salvatore. He's a _lawyer_ and I just thought it might be smart to bring him along to check out these contracts of yours. I hope that's not a problem."

Surprisingly enough, Katherine didn't seem afraid of Damon's presence even knowing his choice of occupation. The smile returned. "I told you, Elena. I'm not here to screw you over. My success would be _far_ too dependent upon yours. But if Mr. Salvatore's presence makes you feel more comfortable, I'll allow it. Besides…" Her heated gaze dragged up and down his body. "He's hot. And with those crutches he can't run away." She punctuated her innuendo with a wink.

Damon smirked. "Don't get _too_ excited. I can only stay for a bit before I need to head to work."

When Elena had come home Friday evening to tell him the whole story of her insane night, Damon had at first been ready to ship her back home within the hour. He probably would have punched the wall if he'd been able to stand without support. But after calming him down with reassurances and promising him he had permission to kick Frank's ass if he ever saw him in person again, Damon had been remarkably interested in Katherine's offer. Somehow, he'd heard of her around work and knew her reputation. Damon had informed her that her client list was kept top secret, but the rumored names of who exactly she had "created" were nearly all A-list.

Katherine worked from home and, after seeing it, Elena could understand why. It was a beautiful mansion overlooking a man-made lake and Elena's jaw practically dropped as she took in the stunning marble work and ornate architecture. Elena was positive she'd never been in a house this elaborate and she was almost sad when their informal tour ended as they reached the study.

Katherine chose to sit with the pair at a conference table near the side window, overlooking the large swimming pool and lake view. She opened up a folder filled with documents that she immediately slid over to Damon. "Well, I'll go ahead and start explaining the basics to Elena. Damon: feel free to interrupt me if anything in those forms contradicts what I say." Damon nodded, his gaze already locked in on the black and white print.

Katherine's eyes focused on Elena. "As I mentioned a few days ago, my job is to mold you into a celebrity. By that, I don't mean I'll make you famous just by being famous. I'll do whatever it takes to put you in the right roles for your talent so that there should be no reason for you to be criticized by the media for thinking too highly of yourself. I'll be in control of your appearance, your lifestyle, basically everything about you for the first phase, after which I'll take more of a supervisory role. I guarantee that within a year you'll be on the right track and if you're dissatisfied at that point, you can cut ties with me completely. Breaking the contract, either by blatant disobedience or removing yourself from my care before the year is up, gives me the full right to air any and all dirty laundry to the press."

Elena's eyes widened at her words, causing Katherine to chuckle. "Like I said, Elena, my success is totally dependent upon yours. If you screw me over, I'll have no choice but to take you down. But I promise: you'll have no reason to. You can trust me on that."

Elena nodded in understanding, absorbing the abundant amount of information. "What is your compensation?"

"It only comes in after your first paycheck. After that, ten percent of each paycheck is given to me. After six months, I require an added annual stipend of $500,000."

Elena nearly choked on air. "Katherine, I do _not_ have that kind of money."

Katherine smiled. "If you stick with me, you'll have _more_ than enough to afford me in six months time."

Elena took in a deep breath, her gaze floating over to Damon. The fact that Katherine was basically guaranteeing that Elena would be earning that sort of money by October made her head spin.

Damon looked up from the contracts he was flipping through and met Elena's stare. "If you want me to examine these more closely, I can, but these are pretty damn tight. From what I can see so far, she's not going to screw you over."

Elena turned back to Katherine. "Elena, I swear I'm not the enemy here. From what I've seen so far, I like you. You have passion that I deeply admire. I want to see you do well and not just because I'll make money off of it. If I didn't care about you, I wouldn't have asked to represent you."

Elena swallowed, her eyes going to Damon. She didn't even have to ask. He knew her question. He sighed. "I want you to do whatever makes you happy. If you're asking for my support, you already have it."

Elena licked her lips, nodding her head as she cemented the decision in her mind. "Okay." A relieved smile crossed over her face. "Where do I sign?"

After what felt like a hundred signatures, Katherine had moved on to the "interview" portion of their first meeting. It was meant to determine how Katherine was going to market Elena to the world. Elena was thankful Damon was still there to support her, but was surprised he was staying so long.

"Alright, Elena," Katherine began, leaning back in her chair with a notepad in hand. "Now, I'm going to ask you right off the bat: what are you hiding?"

Elena forehead crinkled in confusion. "What do you mean exactly?"

Katherine waved her hand. "What are your dirty little secrets? Scandals from your past, potential enemies who will try to take you down… _Anything_ bad that could potentially be revealed from your past will be so we need to be prepared. I will wring your neck myself if I get blindsided by some shit you did in high school so tell me now. Be totally and completely honest or else we won't be ready."

Damon laughed next to her, causing Katherine's gaze to snap to him. "Something funny, Damon?"

He smirked. "Yeah. The fact that you think you're going to find anything _bad_ about Elena."

"What do you mean?"

Elena sighed, shooting a look at Damon. "I have an incredibly, _incredibly_ conservative past."

Katherine's focus went back to Elena, one eyebrow arched. "I'm intrigued. Explain."

Elena took a deep breath before beginning. This would be only the second time she'd told the details of her past to anyone and the first time she'd done so with someone she wasn't even comfortable with. "I was raised in a strict orthodox religious community. That meant no boys, no makeup, _nothing_ from the outside world. I realized I wanted to act from the contraband movies and television shows I would watch. I was permitted to leave home to go to college, but I dropped out to come here."

Katherine's smile nearly ate up her face. "Okay, I'm not shocked by _anything_ anymore, but this is incredible!" She dropped the notepad on the table and leaned forward. "So you're telling me that you're the sweet, innocent virgin who's only been living in the real world for a few _months_?!"

Elena flushed at Katherine's term, feeling especially exposed with Damon only sitting a few feet away from her. The whole "virginity" thing was pretty obvious given the circumstances, but having it be actually stated out loud made it all the more uncomfortable. "Yup," Elena replied.

"Holy shit. I have it."

"Have what?"

"Your… _thing_. It's perfect! Tell me, Elena: have you ever even been _kissed_?"

Elena was definitely sure her face was as red as Katherine's crimson nail polish and it became even worse when she caught Damon's shit eating grin out of the corner of her eyes. "Actually…" she mumbled. "Damon's already claimed that one."

Katherine's grin faded. Suddenly, she let out a large groan, rubbing her forehead with the back of her hand. "Elena, I thought we agreed you wouldn't lie to me."

Elena frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You told me that Damon was your _friend_. I'm assuming you want to change your answer now?"

Elena's eyes widened in alarm. "No, no! I swear Damon is only my friend. The kiss happened a really long time ago and he was just… doing me a favor. It wasn't like that." Elena moved her hair over her ear so that it blocked Damon from her sight.

Katherine considered Elena's answer for a moment. "Alright, I need you two to be honest with me. _Totally_ and completely honest with me. I desperately need to market Elena as single. I can _maybe_ swing you two being together if necessary, but it won't be nearly as good. So tell me right now: is there a chance, at all, that you two will get together in the near future?"

Elena took in a deep breath. Katherine's gaze was focused on her so she assumed her response was wanted first.

Regardless of what might have gone down a few days ago in the living room or the various temptations that had occurred between the two, she knew the answer to Katherine's question. Damon had no interest in her, except maybe one of a sexual nature that didn't speak for anything beyond her looks or their proximity. He'd made that pretty clear over the past few months and she'd be delusional to believe otherwise.

"Nope," Elena replied confidently. "Not a chance."

* * *

Damon tapped his foot against the leg of the chair. They'd been waiting in what appeared to be a large dance studio for nearly twenty minutes. Elena was pacing rapidly back and forth, her mouth moving subtly as she went over the memorized lines. Katherine was rapidly typing in her Blackberry next to him, seemingly unaffected by the importance of the day.

When Katherine had first pitched the idea of Elena's new "image," Damon had been wary. She'd decided the naïve virgin thing was too good to pass up and decided to run with it. Elena would be played up to the media as the wholesome good girl, eyes wide and heart open.

But there would be a catch: Elena's first _role_ would be the exact opposite of the one she played in the public eye. According to Katherine, a sexier movie would cause fans to wonder if there was a secret wild side to Elena's innocent act. Merging her crazy childhood and lack of experience with the constant potential to be something far more dangerous was a winning combination and it would be exactly what would make Elena a prime candidate for fame and fortune.

Katherine had almost immediately booked Elena this private audition. The director apparently owed her a favor and he was casting the lead role for a film that perfectly played into what they were looking for. If Elena got the part, she'd be playing a young woman caught between two guys: her abusive boyfriend and the successful married man she was having an affair with. It was more of an indie flick, but they'd cast one really big actor to draw in the crowds. His name was Stefan something, but Damon hadn't been paying that close attention.

He was nervous for Elena, especially after seeing how hard she'd worked on this audition. She'd refused to perform anything for him, but he'd heard the murmured monologue for the past week and a half for hours a day. He desperately wanted her to do well and he was incredibly worried that she wouldn't deliver. Katherine had hinted earlier that the role was a stretch and she wasn't really expecting Elena to get it. He really hoped Elena could prove her wrong.

The director finally entered, offering a smile and a handshake to each member of the trio before taking a seat. Katherine and Damon's chairs were on the far back wall and Elena stood in the middle, directly in front of the guy who held her future in his hands.

"You may begin whenever you're ready."

Damon watched as Elena took a deep breath, noticing the slight shake in her knees as she settled into position. He wished he'd given her a better pep talk than the rushed "Good luck" he'd thrown out at her a few minutes earlier, but it was too late now. It was all up to Elena.

Three minutes later, Damon was slack jawed, unable to take his eyes off of the woman he called his roommate. The director was beaming in his chair as Elena lowered her breathing back to a normal level from the intense emotional speech.

"Would you mind running some dialogue with me?" He asked, picking through his folder to hand her some slides.

Damon still felt dazed from the experience as he felt a sharp tug on his hand forcing him to stand. "We'll be right back, James," Katherine exclaimed. "You and Elena can finish up without us." Damon followed her as she nearly dragged him out of the room and into the hallway, slamming the door shut behind them.

"Holy shit," Damon mumbled. It definitely wasn't the most articulate thing he'd ever said, but it was all he could get out.

"'Holy shit' is right, Damon." Katherine was pacing in a fashion similar to Elena's. "Oh my god. Why didn't you _tell_ me?!"

Damon shook his head, still slightly numb. "Tell you what?"

Katherine stopped. "That she's fucking _good_."

Damon let out a heavy exhale, running his hands over his face and leaning against the wall. "I didn't know. I had _no_ clue."

_Good_ was an understatement, at least in Damon's eyes. Elena had delivered the passionate monologue with every ounce of her being and had blown it out of the park. He felt like some douchey theatre critic, but Damon had felt every inch of the character's pain as Elena had screamed, pleaded and sobbed her way through the ardent speech. And that was just in the _audition_.

"Where the fuck did she learn that?" Damon mumbled.

"I don't know, but this is _huge_, Damon." Katherine's eyes glowed with the possibilities.

Damon nodded, turning to face her. "What does this change?" He asked quietly

"Everything. This changes everything."

* * *

"Hiding from me?"

Elena's head turned, smiling as she caught Damon's gaze. She was seated on the cement floor of the balcony. Her legs were stuck through the decorative iron bars, her bare feet dangling over the other apartments.

Although Damon knew better, he was happy she at least _seemed_ carefree. She wore a baggy t-shirt and denim shorts, enjoying the last bits of sun before they faded into the night. Her forehead wasn't wrinkled with worry and her fingers weren't tapping in impatience. Regardless of where her mind actually was, she looked at ease.

"How was work?"

Damon sighed, sitting down with his back against the side wall. His legs were too wide to fit through the bars, so he settled for stretching his legs out perpendicular to hers, his feet landing a few inches away from her hips. He raised the just-opened champagne bottle in response, disregarding the fact that his designer button down and pants were going to get dirty from the grit. "I won my first case."

Elena's eyes lit up, giggling in delight. "Damon, that's _incredible_! Congratulations."

Damon smiled, taking his first gulp of the sparkling beverage he'd picked up on the way home. He'd heard that word all day long and, besides Alaric, it was the first time it had been sincere. "Wasn't that big of a deal, but thanks."

Elena smirked. "Damon, you won your first case. It's a _huge_ deal." She paused, running her fingers along the ironwork. "I'm assuming you can't tell me what it was about."

Damon grinned. "Not a chance."

His gaze followed Elena's out toward their view of the city. "You can say whatever you want about my father," he sighed. "But he can pick a great apartment."

Elena nodded in reply. Damon watched for a moment, seeing some of the stress of the week fall over her features again. "Hey," he murmured. "You want some?"

Elena eyed the offered bottle warily. She bit her lip. "You know I've never had a drink before."

Damon smiled. "This is some damn good champagne. You should be _honored_ to have this be your first drink."

Elena laughed, taking a few moments to decide before she grabbed for it. Their fingers slid along each other's as they exchanged the glass container. Elena regarded the label and then cautiously took her first sip.

"What do you think?"

Elena swallowed it down, nodding. "It's… different." Damon smirked.

Elena continued. "My first drink, your first winning case… We're just a _bundle_ of surprises today."

Damon chuckled, taking the bottle back from her after she took a second taste. He nodded, having his own swallow before placing it on the ground next to him. "Speaking of surprises…" Elena's head turned to meet his gaze. "_Why_ didn't you tell me you were so damn good?"

Elena's forehead crinkled. "What do you mean?"

"The audition." It had been almost a week since she'd tried out and although Damon had heaped enough praise on her to last a lifetime the whole car ride home, he was still mystified by what he'd seen.

Elena blushed. "We don't _know_ if I'm good yet, Damon. We haven't even heard back."

That was true. Katherine had mentioned that they would know whether she'd gotten the part at some point that week, but Elena seemed to be the only one convinced she hadn't. "Come on, Elena. _Seriously_. Why didn't you tell me you were that talented?"

Elena stared out at the rapidly setting sun for a few moments before responding. "Here's a better question." She leaned over for the bottle and Damon handed it to her. "Why did you follow me out here if there was a chance I might suck?"

Damon blew out an exhale. "Well, to be honest, you caught me at a pretty weak moment, Elena. I was pretty willing to do anything to get out of that town."

He noticed something flicker in Elena's eyes as she took another drink. Clearly, he hadn't given her the answer she wanted.

He was reminded of something she'd said a few weeks back at their initial meeting with Katherine, something that had been bothering him ever since the words fell out of her mouth. When Katherine had asked if there was any potential they would become romantically involved and both had denied it, Elena had elaborated.

"_Damon just… puts up with me."_

Damon licked his lips, planning to ask her about what she'd meant, when she cut him off.

"Damon, do you like me?"

Elena must have noticed his eyes widen and she went to correct herself. "I don't mean romantically or anything. Just…" she sighed, placing the bottle down next to her and swinging her legs lightly back and forth. "I feel like sometimes you just deal with me because you think you have to."

"Elena-"

"No, _seriously_. I don't get it. One day, we're friends. The next, you treat me like your annoying little sister. But then, the day after that, you're standing in front of me naked only to basically _ignore_ me two hours later. And if you really don't like me, that's fine, whatever, but… then why are you still here? Why are you still in my life? I don't want to be this… burden to you. You don't owe me anything. I can get my own place, live on my own. I have no desire to _force_ my friendship on you-"

"You think I don't like you?"

Elena stopped, her intense gaze fully focused on him. "Sometimes, yeah."

Damon sighed. "God, I feel like such a dick."

"Crap, Damon. I didn't mean to-"

"Don't apologize to me, Elena. I don't deserve it."

Elena silenced herself in response as Damon prepared himself for what he needed to say. He took another swallow of the champagne, knowing that the dull buzz wouldn't do much for his courage. He focused his stare out onto the darkening sky, knowing he wouldn't be able to look directly at her as he spoke.

"You're… you're _difficult_ for me. In the beginning, you were the _kid_ I tutored. I mean we were friends, but it was different. I had a different role. I know you probably didn't see it that way at the time, but… I was the adult, the grown-up. I was supposed to help you… be a role model and not your peer." Damon scoffed. "Of course, I kind of destroyed all that with that kiss."

Damon hazarded a glance at Elena, but she wasn't looking at him. She, too, was focusing her gaze on the horizon, a small smile lighting up her face at the reminder of that night.

"When we first moved out here, I tried to go back to what we'd started out as. I was here to take care of you, protect you. To put it indelicately, I needed a _hobby_ after everything that had happened. But, of course, you wouldn't let me. You _had_ to prove to me that we were equals… that you could take care of yourself. You wanted to be friends and you wanted us to be close. And I hated that. Part of me still does. I mean the only other woman that's ever filled that role was-"

"_Rose_." Damon's gaze met Elena's as she finished his thought. "You didn't want to care about someone like you cared about Rose."

Damon sighed. "It wasn't just that. I couldn't separate you two… or at least I was afraid I wouldn't be able to. I loved Rose and I didn't know if I could _just_ be a friend to someone who took such a similar place in my life. I couldn't treat you like Rose and not see you _that_ way. And I didn't want to. Not because I find you repulsive or anything like that, but we _agreed_. We were going to be friends and so I decided I had to keep you in that original place: the kid in the library.

"But it's too hard, Elena. I can't… you're not a _kid_. You're a woman and you do know how to take care of yourself. When I see you in those auditions and those meetings… you're confident and you're capable. You're not the same girl I met nine months ago who was having a breakdown over a damn math problem.

"I've spent all this time being conflicted over how to treat you, trying to determine what was best for _me_ and… all I did was hurt you. Make you think that I hated you or something… I'm sorry, Elena. I wish I hadn't made you feel that way… like you were some burden I wanted to get rid of. You don't deserve that. And I… I want to try to be friends with you, _actually_ try without the weird, protective guardian side of me. That's, of course, if you'll allow me to."

Elena smiled, kicking her legs back and forth. The sun was now completely set and the sensor on the balcony had turned the outdoor light on. "Damon, you don't have to ask my _permission_ to be friends with me. But… thank you."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the distant hum of the city rumbling beneath them, each absorbing Damon's words.

A car alarm from a nearby parking lot finally broke the calm, shaking Damon and Elena out of their contemplation. Damon sighed, a smirk gracing his mouth. "You _know_ you're going to get the part-"

"Shut up, Damon."

* * *

_56 W. Rosemary St_

Damon sighed in relief at the text. He'd been searching for Elena for _hours_ and she'd refused to respond to any of his calls or messages. Alaric hadn't heard from her and Katherine was MIA as well. When he'd come home from work to an empty apartment, Elena's car still in its space, he'd feared the worst. The only message that had gotten him a response was his threat to call the police if he didn't hear back from her within the next five minutes.

He knew the street was only a few blocks away from the apartment so Damon decided he could walk. He began to worry over what he might find. He assumed she was safe, but he had no recollection of what was at the address.

And once he got there, he realized he would never have been able to guess.

The large church was far more immaculate than the one he'd attended back at home. He and Elena had yet to go to a service since they'd arrived in town, regardless of its proximity to their building. But, apparently, Elena had decided to visit without him.

He opened the large wooden doors, stepping into the ornately decorated sanctuary. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed an elderly woman praying in a back row, but his gaze was totally focused on the brunette seated in the very front.

When he reached the row Elena was in, he swore under his breath noticing the tear tracks streaming down her face. Her head was slightly lowered as she stared at the hands resting in her lap. Damon sighed, moving to sit directly next to her.

He now realized what today must have been: decision day.

"Elena, it's going to be _fine_," he whispered, placing his hand firmly on her upper back, rubbing it in small circular motions. "Katherine probably has six other auditions lined up for you _already_. After what you showed her, she's gonna have directors _begging_ to work with you."

Elena's shoulders began to shake subtly under his touch. "The guy is a dick who doesn't know what he's missing out on, okay? He's clearly an idiot. You are so ridiculously talented… it will make people sick some day. And, later on, he'll be _wishing_ he hadn't said no to you."

Elena bringing her head up to face him finally cut off his rambling, comforting words. A breathtaking and totally unexpected smile adorned her features. Somehow, along with the mascara stains underneath her eyes and the blotchy red cheeks from her tears, she still looked beautiful. Especially as she said those next five words.

"Damon, I got the part."

Damon blinked, absorbing what he'd just heard. His eyes flickered over to the elderly woman in the back, still hunched over the pew.

He let out a deep breath. "Come on," he replied solemnly, grabbing Elena's hand and pulling her up and down the aisle.

Elena stumbled, dragging along behind him like dead weight. "Damon, what are you doing?" She hissed.

"I have to do something that I can't do inside of a church."

He felt Elena give a little at his words and she sped up behind him as they finally walked back out through the wooden doors and onto the darkened street. He stayed silent for a few seconds, rubbing his hands down his face.

Elena grew impatient behind him. "So what is it-"

"HOLY _FUCKING_ SHIT, I AM SO GODDAMNED PROUD OF YOU!"

Elena's jaw dropped, unable to conceal a huge smile and loud, pealing laughter as Damon yanked her into a strong hug. She wrapped her own arms around him tightly, smiling into his chest.

After a few moments, she pulled back and Damon pushed a strand of her mussed hair behind her ear, his head shaking back and forth in wonder.

"God damn, girl. You are something else. You know that, right?"

Elena flushed, a mischievous smirk crossing her features. "You know… _technically_ we're still on church property."

"Oh my god, Elena. Shut the _fuck_ up."


	9. May 2007

**Yes, I know this is a few days later than intended and I sincerely apologize for that. On Sunday, my social media hiatus ended and I spent far too much of my day responding to all of you lovely people who sent messages welcoming me back. Then, of course, school kicked in and... well, here we are. I wish this could have gotten up sooner, but just think: now you won't have to wait as long for the next update since I plan on putting that one up on Sunday like normal :)**

* * *

**May 2007**

_"I don't know what sex appeal is. I don't think you can have sex appeal knowingly. The people who seduce me personally are the people who seem not to know they're seductive, and not to know they have sex appeal."_**  
**

"Toothbrush?"

"Oh my god, Damon!"

Damon stopped his frantic pacing at her growl. He'd spent the past minute or so listing off commonly forgotten items, convinced that something was missing from her plethora of suitcases.

"People forget their toothbrush all the time, Elena."

Elena shook her head, a small smile on her face at his overly serious expression, as she crossed the room and grabbed him by the shoulders. She'd been sitting on the couch, flipping through a magazine as he'd worried holes into the carpet. "_Yes_, they do. But I've been packing for this for _five_ days. I don't think I forgot a _toothbrush_. Besides, even if I did, I'm not going to some African village. They have drugstores." She let out a sarcastic gasp. "They even have the internet!"

Damon let out a long exhale, finally registering his error. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to play 'big brother' again. I know I promised to treat you like you can handle yourself."

Elena nodded. "Yeah, you did… But it's okay. I don't mind it right now."

Damon quirked his eyebrow. "And why is that?" She typically wanted to ring his neck anytime he came anywhere _close_ to being overly protective.

Elena's small smile turned into a full-fledged, shit-eating grin. "Because all of your freaking out means you're gonna miss me. It's _adorable_."

Damon groaned as she backed away from him, dancing around in her spot. "You're gonna miss me. You're gonna miss me," she sang mockingly.

"That whole missing you thing is fading _pretty_ quickly," Damon replied back with a growl. He couldn't keep the smile off of his face, though, at her childish giggle.

It was four in the morning and Damon had risen along with his roommate to send her off. For two and a half months, Elena would be on the opposite side of the country filming. Ironically enough, the shooting location was only a few hours away from the city they'd first met. Damon, thanks to his highly successful win, was now drowning in work at the firm and wouldn't be able to accompany her. Hell, at this point he wasn't even sure if he'd be able to _visit_ her.

The few weeks that had passed since Elena had gotten the part had gone by in a flash. Elena was constantly in meetings for pre-production while Damon had been earning more cases thanks to his recent win. He could barely recall the last time they'd had a meal together or even been in the same room for any more than an hour. And now, realizing she was about to walk out that door and not return for the entire summer, he could feel his stomach tighten in unease.

For nearly six months, he and Elena had lived together. And only just recently had their friendship become something that was healthy rather than unbalanced. He didn't think he was going to break down without her or anything, but he knew it would be strange to wake up every morning and not hear her singing along to the radio in her bathroom or finding random items of her clothing draped over furniture in the apartment that was nowhere _near_ her room.

Elena, on the other hand, hadn't panicked _once_ since the new scenario had been revealed. At least, not around him. He'd always assumed _she'd_ be the one racing all over the house, anxious about every last detail. But, now, standing in front of him with a hopeful smile on her face, she just seemed unnervingly calm.

"When does your car get here?" Katherine had arranged for a driver to pick herself and Elena up at their respective homes.

Elena sighed, pulling out her brand new cell phone, courteously gifted by the aforementioned brunette. "Ten minutes, give or take."

Damon ran his hands through his hair. He still couldn't believe this was even happening. Little Elena Gilbert, running off to the other side of the country to star in a movie. "Do you want me to make you some coffee to go?"

Elena shook her head, heading back to sit on the couch. "No. I'm going to want to sleep on the plane. We already have like fifteen things on the schedule once I get there."

Damon nodded. Since he'd already done nearly everything he could think of to help her and had double-checked every task on the list, all he could do now was sit and wait with her, soaking in whatever time they had left.

"How are you feeling?" Damon asked, breaking the silence.

A glorious smile lit up her face as she blushed. "Amazing…" She laughed, her eyes sparkling. "I mean I'm doing _exactly_ what I came here to do. I got what I wanted."

He noticed her eyes dull slightly at her last words. "You seem uneasy."

Her smile softened slightly, but the sincerity didn't dim. "I just… it's hard to wrap your mind around it, you know? I mean… it's always been a dream, never a reality. The past few weeks have been so crazy that I've barely had time to digest it all. But now… So many people come here and spend years _trying_ to follow all of these formulas and play into the crazy games of the industry and they can barely get a _guest_ spot on a television show. I come here and, thanks to a chance encounter at a bar, I've got a leading role in a movie after five _months_. It doesn't… make sense."

Damon smiled. "Come on, Elena. Yeah, you're pretty damn lucky that all of the chips fell into place like this, but… you _earned_ that role. It's not all luck or chance. You ended up exactly where you needed to be because you deserved it."

Elena's smile grew, and before he could fully register what was happening, she did what she did best: attack hugs. The fact that they were sitting on a couch made the angle a little awkward, but her intent was clear. Damon let out a breath as he met the embrace, his arms squeezing just the slightest bit more tightly as the reminder of her forthcoming long absence hit him again.

Elena pulled back after what felt like minutes. Her lips lifted into a small smirk as she stuck her thumb out, gently rubbing the furrow in between his brows. She pouted, her voice a full octave lower. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

Damon let out a light laugh, shaking his head enough to force her hand away. "I can still be your friend and worry about you. Especially when you're going to be so far away."

Elena sighed. "Fine. I'll admit that I appreciate the _concern_… just make sure you keep living while I'm gone."

Damon opened his mouth in retort, but then realized his response would have been slightly inappropriate given the circumstances. He'd meant to inform her that he'd actually scheduled a date for later that evening, but something told him he should keep it under wraps. It was nothing serious and, until it was, Elena didn't need to know.

He decided sarcasm was his best bet. "Oh, I'll do plenty of living. Gonna spend my evenings going over case files, watching some _Leave it to Beaver_ reruns, having slumber parties with Alaric. Hey, maybe I'll even get _real_ crazy and sit in a park or something."

Elena laughed, slapping his chest. "You're such an idiot."

Damon chuckled, but her previous comment had left a mark. Whether good or bad, he wasn't quite sure. He realized that, without her around, his life only consisted of his work. Besides Alaric, he had no friends here. He hadn't even spoken to his parents in over two months.

His days revolved around Elena. Prepping her for various auditions or meetings. Cooking meals to share. Coming home to relax with her after a long day. It had never been something he resented, but he suddenly realized that he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself without her around. Maybe her absence wouldn't be such a bad thing for him after all.

Elena's phone went off and she scrambled in the nearest bag to locate it. "It's Katherine," she mumbled, staring at the screen. "They're pulling into the complex gates." Her wide eyes slid up to meet his.

Damon knew, at that moment, that it was finally really hitting them. After everything they'd been through, this was the part where they'd be forced to go their separate ways, if only for a few months. Regardless, it was such a monumental change that it would cause even the _toughest_ of hearts to feel the slightest ache.

He gave Elena credit for putting up a strong front, though. He could barely sense the shake in her confidence and knew that, to the untrained eye, it would have been unnoticeable. Damon, on the other hand, was a bit more strained.

His eyes flickered down to their laps, Elena nearly sitting in his thanks to the angle of the earlier hug. He hadn't realized his hand had fallen to her outer thigh after the embrace had ended and he definitely hadn't registered the soothing circles he'd been rubbing into her yoga pants.

After glancing back up at Elena, he saw that she'd just made the discovery as well. She made a motion to get up, but he put the slightest bit of pressure into his grip, a subtle encouragement to stay where she was.

"Look, I know you can take care of yourself. And I also know that you don't need me to be your guardian or your protector. But I will fly across the country in a _heartbeat_ if you need me for anything. You know that, right?"

Elena took a deep breath, taken aback by the intensity of his tone. She bit her lip, nodding. "Yeah, of course."

"Alright." Damon exhaled before the next part, his hand lifting to perform his new bad habit: pushing the hair away from her face. "I also know that this whole… _thing_… it's going to be amazing for you. It's also going to be tough. So when you need me, I will be there, but I can promise you: there is no way in _hell_ I'm going to let you fly back here. Because regardless of how difficult it might be and regardless of how hard you might have to work, you are going to take in every second of this opportunity. You deserve to see this through and I refuse to help you turn your back on it. Is that clear?"

Elena's eyes were wide and Damon almost thought she might argue with him. But after a few tense seconds, she finally swallowed. "Thank you, Damon."

Damon took one last look into her brown eyes just as the knock on the door came, Katherine entering just a few moments later. "Ready to go?" She asked with a tired expression.

Elena nodded, pulling away from Damon to stand. Damon followed to help her with her bags, but the driver, who had come in behind Katherine, shooed him away, lifting multiple suitcases with ease.

When everything was packed into the trunk, Damon, Elena, and Katherine were all left standing outside of the rented car in the warm, dark air. As Katherine typed out an email into her phone, Elena reached up, wrapping her arms around Damon for the last time.

"Don't worry," she whispered into his ear. "I'll miss you, too." When she pulled back, the smile on her face was the most somber one she'd shown all morning, but it was enough to reassure him that she'd be okay.

"I'll see you soon," Damon replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets as Katherine approached the car once again, opening the door for Elena to enter behind her.

"_Soon_," Elena repeated, her smile growing. "Can't come fast enough."

* * *

"God, I feel like such a girl," Damon groaned, eliciting a chuckle from behind him.

Alaric was perched against the counter as Damon sifted through shirt and tie combinations he'd laid out on the couch. "Having your best friend come over to help you pick out an outfit before a date? Yeah, I could see why."

Damon shot Alaric a look. "Yeah, well, I haven't _dated_ since I was fifteen years old. Forgive me if I'm a little stressed." He threw a hanger to the side. "Besides, you seemed pretty eager to come over on the phone."

"You offered me liquor. I'm a weak, simple man."

Damon smirked, picking up a pair he'd been considering for almost fifteen minutes.

Alaric interrupted his thoughts. "You know, I can help you with the clothing thing if you'd like."

"Shoot, buddy."

"Alright: she genuinely does not give a _shit_ what you're wearing, as long as it's expensive."

Damon's eyebrows furrowed. "And why do you say that?"

"Because she's Andie. The only time she'll be looking at that shirt is when she's figuring out how to get it off."

Damon paused in his motions, dropping the set back onto the cushions. "I don't think she's like that."

Alaric scoffed, taking another sip from his glass. "They're _all_ like that, Damon. Especially Andie. You're not in Kansas anymore, Toto. She doesn't want the romance and the love shit. She wants the sex. Better yet, she wants to say she had sex with _you_."

Damon quirked his eyebrow, still not fully believing what he was hearing. "So you're telling me that I'm just going to show up tonight and, right off the bat, she'll try to fuck me?"

"Well, I mean you're going to buy her dinner first, maybe swap some witty innuendos. But I have no doubt that that's her ultimate endgame. It's how most of them operate now. At least the ones _you're_ going to encounter. Women like Andie don't have time for relationships and, since she works in celebrity divorces, she's seen her fair share of assholes with little sense of decency. She has no interest in falling in love with you." He noticed Damon's wary expression and switched tracks. "Look, she obviously likes you, don't get me wrong. She's not just scouring the office for any available warm bodies."

"Clearly, she hasn't asked you yet," Damon mumbled, eliciting another laugh from his friend.

"Nah. She has a type and that type is someone who is a hell of a lot more put together than me."

Damon sighed, realizing that his choice of clothing wasn't as important as he'd once thought. He grabbed the shirt combination nearest to him and began changing into it. "Well, I'm just going to get through tonight and then… we'll see. I mean, she's not going to force herself on me or anything, right?"

Alaric laughed. "She's not _that_ desperate, Damon. I mean have you seen the girl?"

Damon smirked, finishing the last of the buttons. He had finally met her in person after she'd shown up in his office a few days after the first phone call. She _was_ quite attractive: tall, thin, with caramel skin and hair. She'd been perfectly nice, albeit quite forward with her intentions. Damon had known he was taking a risk by agreeing to dinner with her and he also wasn't naïve enough to think the rules hadn't changed in the past ten years. But the idea of him having sex with someone other than Rose after one date… it felt strange.

"Are you okay with this?" Alaric interrupted with a sly smirk. "You look like you might barf."

"Just digesting," Damon replied. "I'll be fine."

"Would this hesitation have anything to do with a certain young brunette who just flew 6 hours away?"

Damon's head shot up to give Alaric a pointed look. His neighbor just chuckled in response. "The _hesitation_, Ric, stems from the fact that the last, and only, woman I slept with broke my heart, not _Elena_."

Alaric cocked his eyebrows. "And you're _still_ gonna tell me you haven't done anything with Elena since you got here?"

"It's the truth. Sorry to disappoint you and whatever sick fantasies you have about your neighbors."

Alaric rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah whatever. I might be the pervert neighbor, but at least I'm not the guy who hasn't had _sex_ in over a year."

Damon crossed the room to grab his wallet and keys. "Seven months," Damon corrected. "Now, follow me out. _ I_ have a hot date to pick up."

* * *

If someone had told Damon ten months ago that by simply walking into a neighboring studying room at the nearest library, he would be dining at the newest, most expensive restaurant in Culver City less than a year later, on a date with someone _other_ than Rose, he would have been convinced that person was certifiably insane. Yet here he was, sitting across from a stunning attorney as she ordered some dish he could barely pronounce and, according to Alaric and every other signal she'd been throwing his way that night, she was planning on sleeping with him.

And he wasn't quite sure how to feel about that.

Thankfully, the date had gone surprisingly well so far. Given his lack of expertise in the field, he'd been worried someone like Andie would practically run him over. She'd been charming and lovely the entirety of the evening, regardless of the fact that Alaric had set her up to be some sort of man-eater.

He shook himself out of his thoughts when he noticed Andie staring him down across the small table. "Alright, what's wrong?" She asked dryly, taking a sip of her wine.

Damon frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You look like you're going to _puke_ any second."

_Crap, _Damon thought_. Send in damage control. _"Well, I guess I'm just intimidated by you. Why a beautiful woman such as yourself would ask out a guy like me… it's hard to believe."

Andie's eyes widened and Damon mentally cursed himself. _Great line, Salvatore. Really dropping the panties there._

"Are you kidding me?" Andie asked in disbelief.

Damon cringed. "Sorry, I'm not great at this-"

"Not _that_," Andie interrupted. "I'm talking about the insecurity thing. Were you serious?"

"I…" Damon wasn't quite sure how to respond to her question. He determined honesty was the best policy. "You just seem 'out of my league,' to use a clichéd term."

Andie's jaw dropped, stunned into silence for a few seconds. "Oh my god. You _actually_ have no clue."

"No clue about what?" Damon asked.

A mischievous smile grew on Andie's face. She leaned in, resting her forearms on the covered table. Damon felt the slight slide of her heels against his calf as she adjusted her position. "You have no idea how fucking _hot_ you are."

Damon's mouth opened slightly. Now, he was definitely sure he had no reply… at least nothing that wouldn't make him sound like a conceited jackass. Was he completely unaware of his good looks? Of course not. He'd figured out early on as a teenager that most girls deemed him attractive, enough to shamelessly flirt with him regardless of his committed relationship. But that was in a small town. Damon wasn't too concerned with how he looked, but he also was aware that this city had a plethora of good-looking men. Women weren't exactly throwing themselves at him since he'd gotten here. He just assumed that he was somewhere in the middle of the heap now.

At Damon's awkward silence, Andie continued. "You don't realize that ninety percent of the girls in this bar hate me simply because I'm sitting next to you. God, that podunk little town probably didn't even know what to do with you."

Damon just shook his head, an uncomfortable smile crossing his face. "Okay, so I'm good looking. What does that have to do with this?"

Andie sighed. "Because when I asked you out, I was actually… nervous that you would say no. And I don't get nervous about _any_ guy's rejection. You might be on a date with _me_ tonight, but you could get any other woman in this bar in a heartbeat."

Damon smirked, his confidence rising thanks to her praise. "So then you're saying that you're just honored to be in my presence?" He asked teasingly.

Andie cocked an eyebrow. "Don't get _too_ carried away there, Mr. Salvatore. I could get any _guy_ in this bar if I wanted to. I'm just saying I'm not _out_ of your league; I'm in it."

Damon sighed. "Well, I think we should just focus on _our_ date instead of all of the other people we _could_ date."

Andie placed the glass she'd been holding back down on the table. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Look, here's the deal. This is never going to be a relationship. I don't _do_ relationships. Hell, even _dating_ is a stretch for me. Most guys bore the shit out of me, but you on the other hand… I'm interested."

Damon nodded. "Well, that's good…" he chuckled awkwardly.

Andie eyed him for a moment. "What if I helped you? You know, embrace your hotness. It would make this evening a hell of a lot more fun."

"You want to help me pick up other women?" Damon questioned. "Why?"

"Because I love a good project. It would be fun to say I created you."

Damon rolled his eyes, taking a gulp of his drink. This woman seemed hell-bent on playing a game with him and a part of him wanted to play along. Regardless of all of this time in LA, he still felt like a fish out of water. And compared to Elena's progression, he was a regular hick. He'd come on this date to move on from his past and he knew some changes had to be made. A few more drinks and he'd be much more comfortable with it. "Fine. Teach me what I need to know."

* * *

Damon had been right about the few drinks idea. After Andie had asked him various questions about his previous dating experience during dinner, she'd decided they would need to move to a bar to start the transformation process. Especially after she nearly choked on her food when he'd stated that he'd only ever been with one woman.

Although the situation was awkward in and of itself, he was having a good time. Andie was bold and forthcoming, always ready with clever commentary and her sharp wit. She didn't treat him like a naïve idiot like he assumed she would, but rather as a friend she was helping out. Damon found himself actually having a good time.

"Alright, how do you approach a woman?" Andie quizzed, taking a sip of her beer. They'd been in the nearest hotel's bar for nearly an hour.

"Confidently."

"Well, _duh_. I meant your stride."

"Uh… slowly?"

"Partially correct. You definitely never want to rush at a woman. That will make you look like a serial killer. But, also, don't meander. You have a goal in mind and she should know that. The whole 'accidentally bumping into you' thing doesn't make the woman feel as flattered as a guy being determined to meet her."

"Got it," Damon replied. "Now, please don't patronize me with eye contact tips next."

Andie shook her head. "I wasn't planning on it. But I do have some comments on your complimenting skills."

Damon was intrigued. "Not enough?"

"Your _quantity's_ fine. It's the quality that's concerning. You being all 'you're the physical embodiment of everything I look for in a woman' sets off a woman's _bullshit_ alarm immediately. You need to be more specific, realistic."

Damon scoffed. "I never said anything like that."

Andie gave him a pointed look. "You told me I was beautiful in some form or another like _six_ different times tonight. The woman you'll be talking to don't need to hear that. They hear that shit constantly. It starts to sound like white noise. _But_… it doesn't mean they aren't insecure. Giving them a specific, unique compliment is what's going to intrigue them."

Damon nodded. "Alright, fine. What about phone calls?"

"What about them?"

"Is that three day rule still a thing?"

Andie let out a disbelieving laugh. "Are you serious?"

"Um… yes?"

Andie leaned in, her eyes twinkling in amusement. "I'm not teaching you how to _date_ women. I'm teaching you how to pick them up."

"Okay," Damon replied, his eyebrows furrowed. "You're saying they won't give me their phone number?"

"Oh, they'll give you their phone number. You're just never going to use it."

Damon groaned. "Oh, come on! No way. You're not training me to be some sort of man whore who sleeps with a woman for one night and then never calls her again."

"Why not? What do you have against it?"

"Um, the fact that I'm not a dick?"

Andie rolled her eyes, taking another drink. "Look, this town is not full of women who sit in _bars_ waiting to meet their true love. If they want to find a boyfriend, they can have their friend set them up or use a dating website." When she saw that Damon's disapproval still remained, she tried another tactic. "Fine, tell me straight up. Are you looking for a girlfriend?"

Damon let out an exhale. There was a question he'd never really considered. "I don't know. Don't I seem like the 'girlfriend' kind of guy?"

"Fuck no," Andie shot back. "Why do you think I did a spit take when you told me you were sleeping with the same woman for ten years? Damon, you're in your _twenties_. You're a single attorney in the second largest city in the country. You're gorgeous _and_ you're not a pig. That makes you one of the hottest commodities on the _planet_. You've spent your entire life being a 'boyfriend,' being the good guy, and clearly, that didn't work out for you. What's the harm in trying out something new? If you hate it, then you stop doing it. But you have opportunities that a million men would _kill_ for… Why would you want to waste them on girls who will just break your heart?"

Damon kept his gaze out on the bar, his stomach churning at her words. He hated his brain for thinking that what she was saying made logical sense. He also hated that a part of him was starting to want what she was offering.

As frustrating as it was, she was right. Something needed to change. If he wanted to leave everything behind, just like he'd decided when Elena had asked him to come with her to LA, he'd have to become the person this new city was calling him to be.

When Andie saw the decision in his eyes, her face lit up in a smirk. "Good. Now let's test it out." Her gaze focused on a booth near the entrance hallway. "And I think I know just the test run." Andie abruptly stood. "Come on."

Damon took a deep breath, his eyes going to where hers had been focused to see if he could figure out whom she'd selected, but she was already walking away. Damon got up, threw a few bills on the table, and followed.

But the pair bypassed every single table and booth in the place and Damon, in his surprise, nearly ran into Andie when she abruptly stopped in the private hall. Her proud smirk made Damon put two and two together fairly quickly.

"You're the test run," he mumbled.

"Good guess, cowboy." And before he could respond, Andie had her lips smashed against his, hand pulling him in by the nape of his neck. Damon ignored the slight moment of hesitation he would have had typically and instead pulled her in by the small of her back so that her body was flush to his own. He took the initiative of deepening the kiss, but she pulled back after only a few moments.

"Alright, _student_," Andie's voice had lowered considerably, licking her lips before she continued. "What do you do now?"

Damon met her smirk, his hand pushing the hem of her shirt upwards. He pretended to intensely consider his answer as his thumb made slow circles right above the waistline of her skirt. "Room key?"

Andie grinned. "_A plus._"

* * *

While sitting on the couch of his apartment, Damon's focus continued to switch between one of two things: the text he'd just received from Elena and sex. Surprisingly enough, the two were halfway related.

The text was the first piece of communication he'd received from Elena since they'd said their goodbyes a few days earlier. He'd called her once a day since then to check on her and see how things were going, but she neglected to answer every single time. It had never offended him since he knew she was probably busy, but it was still surprising, nonetheless.

He'd been restless ever since he'd come home from work that day and, when she didn't answer his call for the _fourth_ time that week, he determined texting her might be a better option. All he'd sent was a simple "How's it going?" and her response had come back almost immediately. Clearly, the issue wasn't being away from her phone.

_Everything's good. :) _

And that was it. A part of him felt slightly perturbed by the text, but he couldn't pinpoint the exact reason why. Maybe it was her blasé attitude or the fact that everything was going so well. Apart from his "lesson" with Andie earlier that week, he'd done almost nothing but sulk around his apartment.

Added to his sulking, of course, was his constant preoccupation with what he'd done on Saturday night. Andie teaching him how to pick up, seduce, and then ditch women. His decision to go along with it. The fact that she'd made herself the first practice target and it had gone really, really well.

The sex was astoundingly better than he'd suspected it to be, not that he'd thought she'd be terrible or anything. Damon had thought that because he wasn't in love with Andie, it would lose some of its consuming nature, but that was far from the case. On the contrary, the fact that she was different, practically a stranger, made it all the more exciting and heightened. Unlike Rose, he didn't know exactly where to touch or to kiss to get her off. He had to wait for Andie's guidance or pleaded instruction to push her over the edge.

If there had been any doubt that Damon couldn't do casual, it was thrown out the window the second he'd left Andie in the hotel room. She even texted him "Good job ;)" once she had woken up alone. And the longing he had now wasn't for an intimate conversation or lying in bed next to a woman. It was for the lust, the passion. Like an addict, he wanted that rush of satisfaction again as he made a woman he'd only been acquainted with for a few hours scream his name.

Plus, he desperately wanted to get off again.

The irritation from Elena's text was what convinced him it was time to strike out on his own. He highly doubted Andie wanted to see him again, especially if _he_ was the one to contact her. If he wanted sex, his best bet would be to test out what she'd taught him on another willing girl.

By the time the clock struck ten, Damon was already long gone.

* * *

His phone ringing was what woke him up and Damon practically fell off of the bed trying to silence it. Once he had the phone in his possession, he swore under his breath at whom he'd accidentally hung up on. The missed call from Elena was only second on his priority list, though, as he slowly turned to look next to him.

The woman, Jessica, only seemed to shift slightly in her sleep at the noisy interruption. Beyond that, she was dead to the world. A slightly proud smirk crossed Damon's features as he recalled that _he_ was the reason for her exhaustion, but remembering that Elena was calling him at what would be four in the morning her time wiped it off.

Damon decided that now was as good a time as ever to leave Jessica's apartment given her deep sleep. Tensing all of his muscles, he slowly rolled out of the bed and made his way around to the other side, grabbing whatever clothes had been thrown to the ground in the process. Once dressed, he took a last look at the redhead. A small shred of sentimentality crossed his thoughts as he noticed how adorable she looked while asleep, but he shook it off. _Old habits die hard_.

Damon made his way out of the apartment and out onto the street that was still fairly busy. He'd been almost unnervingly successful once he'd reached the bar, the same one he and Andie had gone to. Jessica had been the first and only woman he approached once he got there and she'd been more than appreciative of his efforts to do so.

She worked at an advertising agency downtown after growing up in Southern California her entire life. She was a lot like Andie when it came to her intentions, but she actually seemed like a genuinely sweet girl. Jessica had claimed that she had work early the next morning, so she'd offered up ending their evening a little early. A part of him felt the need to tell her that he didn't usually do this sort of thing, but he knew that she'd already written him off as a one-night stand the moment he'd walked up to her. It didn't make sense to rock the boat.

The sex had been great, although it was fairly obvious that Jessica was less experienced than Andie. Maybe she was a lot like Damon, a relationship girl who was just trying to see if she could be a one-night stand girl instead. After spending some time with her, Damon was pretty sure she'd be someone's girlfriend soon enough. He, on the other hand, was still finding this "game" far too appealing.

Damon found a more quiet section of the street and leaned up against the walls of the building. He hit redial and waited for the sweet voice he'd grown to miss the past few days.

Instead, after only two rings, he was greeted with what sounded like hysterical sobbing. "Damon?!"

Instantly, Damon's senses were on high alert. "Elena? What's wrong?" His mind immediately flashed through all of the worst-case scenarios.

There were more choked cries on the other end. "Damon, I need you! _Please_."

"Elena," Damon replied as urgently and calmly as he could manage. "You've got to tell me what's going on."

"Just… please come get me. I can't do this! I can't…" She broke off into more sobbing.

Damon let out a long exhale, rubbing his hand over his face. A small bit of relief rushed through him as he realized she wasn't in immediate danger. "Is it work?" he asked.

"It's _everything_! I'm terrible at this. I'm not ready! I keep forgetting my lines and I've screwed up so many takes and… I just want to come back home! Please, Damon. _Let me come home_."

His chest tightened at how broken she sounded. Never in his life had he heard her this beaten down. The fact that she considered their small apartment "home," though, made a small smile creep across his face. "Elena, everything's going to be alright. Everybody makes mistakes. They know you're new at this-"

"No! I can't do this. I can't! Everyone hates me… _Please_, Damon. I need you."

Elena continued to cry on the other end, but he noticed it had become significantly quieter since he'd started calming her down. Damon sighed, hearing her take deep, shaky breaths. He couldn't imagine refusing her at this point. Hearing her break down over the phone kicked up those protective instincts way too much and he'd be damned if he said they weren't still highly present. He knew he'd agreed to not play "big brother," but if she was asking for his help…. Besides, regardless of his new lifestyle choices, saving the damsel in distress was still part of his basic skill set. Especially when Elena was the damsel.

"Elena, I'm going to get the next plane over there, alright? I'll do whatever it takes to be there as soon as possible, but it might take me until later tonight. Is that okay? Will you promise me you'll still go to set today?"

Elena sniffled on the other end, but he could practically feel her relief through the phone. "I'm not called to set today. I'm not back on until Friday."

"Alright, well, just try to get some sleep then. You need to rest, sweetheart. I'll email you the details as soon as I have them. Do you want me to bring you anything?"

"No, just yourself," Elena weakly mumbled. She was silent for a few seconds. "Damon, I'm _really_ sorry."

Damon smiled. "It's fine, Elena. I told you I'd be there for you." He neglected to mention he was only planning on spending the weekend with her, afraid it would send her into another meltdown if she knew he wasn't planning to stay or take her back. "Now, get a tissue. You probably have snot all over your face.

"You suck."

**So... what do we think?**

**I apologize for the lack of Delena in this chapter, BUT I promise I will make it up to you next time ;) I just really wanted to get inside Damon's head some more, especially since you all have expressed your concerns in the reviews. This is really marking Damon's descent into "in-character" Damon and will definitely add some more tension to the DE relationship. I'm really curious, though, to see what you all think about Damon's decision to try out a new attitude when it comes to women. I think it's a fairly realistic choice given his recent betrayal by Rose along with the constant presence of Elena and whatever frustrating feelings he has for her. Elena's life is changing pretty rapidly and Damon sort of feels like he's still the exact same guy, just with a nicer office. I hope you all find it to be a reasonable decision, even though you might not agree with it. :)**

**Note: I avoided the smuttier stuff with Andie and Jessica not because I refuse to write it, but because I personally don't care to write/read the sexier scenes that don't involve DE. Believe me, I'll make up for the lack of it later on ;)**

**Alright, so I guess I should let you guys go ahead and review. I would like to thank all of you who have recommended me on your blogs while I was away. I've seen _so_ many of them in the past few days and it makes my heart far too happy. I really hope I don't disappoint you all. Like I said earlier, I just got back on social media so if you would like to follow me on my Tumblr, I post regularly there (the url is the same as my name here). **

**Next chapter, Damon goes to save Elena and I'd love to hear your theories on what you think goes down. ****Although, I'm hoping the chapter is an unexpected surprise... ;)**


	10. May 2007, Part Two

**May 2007, Part Two**

_I let you see the parts of me_

_That weren't all that pretty_

_And with every touch you fixed them_

The slight shifting and crunching of the gravel underneath his tires filled Damon's ears as he pulled into Elena's oceanfront home. The main cast members had each been given their own house to stay in while filming in the small beach community since there weren't adequate hotels close by. It was located in a small neighborhood of homes that all looked more like suburban mansions than beach cottages, but clearly Elena had nothing to complain about when it came to her living situation.

Damon pulled the rental car underneath the lofted house. As he stepped out, grabbing his leather duffel bag from the trunk, the near-silence of the salty air left him uneasy. He wasn't used to the quiet after living in LA for the past few months; he fell asleep every night to sirens and distant dog barks. Now all he could hear were the alluring crashes of waves on the sand. It would have been more unsettling if he hadn't grown up in a similarly quiet town for the majority of his life.

He made his way up the wooden stairs to the front door and knocked, but there was no reply. Damon sighed, knocking two more times after being unsuccessful in his attempts to find a doorbell. Still, after nearly three minutes, he had yet to be greeted by the woman he'd flown across the country to see. Damon sloughed the heavy bag off of his shoulder and dug around in his pocket for his phone, considering that she could be on an upper floor and unable to hear the knocks. But when her cheerful voice came up indicating he should leave a voicemail, Damon let out a growl. After spending his entire day in airports and planes with very little sleep, he had zero desire to be locked out for who knows how long.

Out of sheer curiosity, Damon tested the door handle and found, to his surprise, that it was unlocked. Half of him understood why she would leave it unlocked: this town's most dangerous criminals were probably a half-drunk group of teenage boys with nothing better to do on the weekends. But regardless, he didn't like the idea of her being in a house all by herself when anyone could just walk in.

Damon heaved the bag back over his shoulder and made his way in. The way the house was designed, the floor he entered on only held a staircase. Damon ascended the first flight of stairs and was met with a long carpeted hallway.

"Elena?" Damon called out. There was no response. The fact that the house was deathly silent made his muscles tense and adrenaline rushed through his veins. He walked down the hall and was met with bedrooms, four to be exact. Well, only three had the doors open, but he assumed the one with the closed door at the very end was hers. He chucked his bag into the first room he could, finding it a little ridiculous that she had a four bedroom house all to herself. But it was difficult for him to focus on much else when Elena was still missing.

Damon came to the closed door after the sudden realization that she might just be asleep rather than kidnapped by the crazed psychopath his paranoia had invented. Thankfully, after pushing open her door and entering her room, he realized his suspicion had been correct.

Elena was passed out in the bed, her position somewhat awkward and her hair splayed out in all directions. Damon smiled, his heart rate finally settling down. Seeing her now made him realize just how much he'd missed her. He crossed over to her and gently pulled the blankets in a more comfortable direction, given how mangled they'd become from her unconscious movements.

After hearing her in so much distress on the phone, Damon was just happy to see her calm and at peace. But once he came closer to the bed, he frowned as he noted the substantial amount of sleep medication on the nightstand. Clearly, she hadn't been able to get sleep on her own.

"How the hell did you manage to get yourself that worked up, Lena?" he murmured softly, pushing back the thick clump of hair that fell over her face. Her deep breaths fanned across his fingers as he did so, her subconscious completely unaware of his presence.

Damon decided to let her be, but not before taking a glance out the large French doors directly across from her bed. The house was definitely right on the beach, and although it was dark, he could still see the waves crashing onto the shore. Damon pulled open one of the doors just a few inches, allowing the soothing sounds to float into the room, hoping that they would somehow quell even more of her stress while she slept.

Damon made his way back to the staircase and headed to the top floor. It was an odd design of a house for the kitchen and living room to be on the top floor with the bedrooms beneath it, but it was fairly typical for a beachfront. Damon was surprised at how clean the house was, given Elena's messier nature, but there wasn't much to indicate that she even lived there. He could see her thick copy of the film script sitting on the coffee table next to an empty water bottle and there was one clean dish sitting out on the kitchen counter.

Seeing the plate made Damon realize that he hadn't eaten in hours thanks to his extensive traveling. He headed over to the fridge and mumbled a quick "thank God" when he saw that it was fully stocked. Obviously, groceries were also something provided for the budding starlet. She must have been eating on set more than she did in the home since it also looked like it had barely been touched. When Damon saw that the cabinets were also filled to the brim, he decided that making dinner wouldn't be such a bad idea.

* * *

Like some creepy sixth sense, when Elena woke up, she _knew_ that Damon was in her house. She was pretty groggy thanks to the drugs she had taken, but even without telltale footsteps above her or some sort of visible sign from her room, she knew he'd come in at some point while she'd been asleep. Elena had hoped the drugs would knock her out for long enough that he'd be there once she awoke, so she'd left the front door unlocked just in case.

She knew it probably wasn't the smartest idea to take the medication, but she had no clue how to get herself out of her anxiety attack long enough to sleep. Besides, most of the anxiety itself was caused from being overly exhausted. Elena was slightly worried about her sleep schedule, though. Glancing at the bedside clock, she realized it was around eleven at night and she was supposed to be on set in twelve hours. But now she was left wide-awake after sleeping for most of the day.

As Elena got out of bed, a rush of embarrassment came over her as she remembered just how much of a meltdown she'd had while on the phone with Damon. She was far from proud of what she'd done earlier that day, but the stress of the week had finally combusted inside of her. She cringed as she recalled how needy and weak she must have sounded. She'd been doing so well in convincing Damon she wasn't a child and that she could take care of herself…. Now, it had all probably gone to shit.

Once she made her way down the hall and to the stairs, she could hear some dishes clanging in the sink, the sound of the faucet going on and off indicating that he was washing them. Elena headed up the carpeted stairs and when she rounded the corner into the kitchen, a relieved smile came across her face.

Damon was standing in profile, his tired gaze fully focused on scrubbing off what looked like pasta sauce from a pan. His hair was sticking up in a few different directions and his button down shirt was hanging un-tucked over his dark jeans, sleeves rolled up to show off his strong forearms. Elena took advantage of the fact that he still hadn't spotted her, watching him lean over to the side to drink out of the beer bottle he must have procured from the stocked fridge.

"Hey."

Damon jolted, clearly surprised by her appearance in the room and she noticed some flecks of water hit his shirt as he jumped back. "Christ, Elena. You scared me. I thought you'd be out until the morning."

Elena shook her head back and forth, her foot slightly tapping in anticipation. In anticipation for what, she wasn't quite sure. All she knew was that she'd desperately missed Damon and when she'd felt completely lost and hopeless just a few hours earlier, he'd been the only person that could soothe her fears.

His gaze softened as he took her in, a small smile forming on his face. He grabbed a towel from the rack and began drying his hands. "Hey back."

The next thing she heard was a loud "oof" as she collided with him, nearly squeezing the breath out of his lungs for the first few seconds she held onto him. Damon only gave a slight moment's hesitation before he met the embrace. His hands were still slightly wet from the sink, but the slight seeping of water into the fabric of her tank top didn't bother her. It just further proved that he was really here and she could finally feel safe.

They stood like that for nearly five minutes, Damon just holding her while she gathered as much strength from him as she possibly could. His hands alternated between rubbing circles into her back and running his fingers gently through the tangled strands of hair. Elena could feel her eyes burn slightly as her overworked brain began considering that, in a few days, he'd be leaving her again, but she shook it off. She couldn't think of that or it might just send her into another downward spiral.

Damon waited to speak until she'd pulled herself out of his arms. "Alright, ready to tell me what happened?" he asked.

Elena nodded, situating herself on the other side of the counter and onto a stool.

"Do you want me to make you anything?" He asked, putting the dishtowel back in its place and pulling the pan out onto the counter to dry.

"No, I'm fine." She waited until Damon was done cleaning things up before she spoke again. "_Thank_ _you_, Damon."

"No problem."

Elena smiled. "Not just for the offer. For everything. It was above and beyond the call of duty for you to come all the way out here just to help me get over an emotional breakdown. _Seriously_."

Damon nodded, moving around the counter to sit on the stool directly next to hers. "I told you I would be here for you if you needed me. I meant that." She noticed conflict flicker in his eyes as he stared at her. His voice was slightly deeper as he spoke again. "You realize, though, that I'm not going to let you run away, right?"

Elena took a deep breath. Although the idea of running away had sounded incredibly appealing the entire week, and frankly still did, her long sleep had granted her brain with some logical thinking. "Yeah, of course. I need to stay."

"_Yes_, you do. And I can't be here the whole summer. But I'm going to do all I can while I am here to make you feel comfortable with what you need to do. So why don't you start by telling me what made you so freaked out?"

Elena hoped the deep flush in her cheeks didn't make him suspicious. She knew what singular event had triggered the breakdown that had made her call him, but there was no way in _hell_ she'd be able to explain it to him without wanting to crawl under a rock afterwards. She decided he would be satisfied with knowing just the basic general facts.

"I don't know. It was just a culmination of all the week's stress. I'd held it in for so long that something stupid set me off." Well, she wasn't lying there. It had taken everything in her not to shut down after the first day, let alone keeping it together for the entirety of the week. "When I called you… well, I'd just kind of lost it at that point."

Damon nodded. "You said you were stressed because of your inexperience, right? At least, that's what I heard through the sobbing."

Damon's comment provoked the slightest smirk from Elena, but it faded quickly when she began talking again. "I mean… everyone here is a _professional_. They've been doing this for years and years and the only time I've ever been in front of a camera was when I did that sketchy commercial. I'm the one making the most mistakes and I have one of the lead roles! Every time I forget my lines or stand in the wrong place or just do the wrong thing at the wrong time… I feel like a huge burden that they're stuck with. Like they regret ever even hiring me."

Damon let out a deep breath. Elena noticed his hand shoot out as if he was going to place it on her knee, but he made a quick change to place it on the counter instead. "Look, Elena. I _highly_ doubt they regret hiring you. They chose you because you brought something to that audition that hundreds of girls before you couldn't. If these people are anything halfway decent, which I assume they are, they're going to be fine with you learning your way through this. As long as you work your ass off to be the best you can be, they'll be fine. If you're still concerned, though, I'll come to set with you tomorrow and I'll check it out for myself. But, to be honest, I think you're just overly self-aware."

Elena nodded. Even if she wasn't totally convinced by his words, just having him near her and trying to comfort her made her feel more at ease than she had been in days. She rested her elbow on the counter, leaning her head into her hand.

"Has Katherine said anything to make you worried?" Damon inquired.

Elena shook her head, a confused expression settling on her features. "No. Katherine left three days ago."

Damon's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "You're kidding me?"

"No," Elena replied. "She had stuff to do back in LA. She couldn't stick around and babysit me."

Damon heaved a sigh, visibly furious. "I'm assuming those were _her_ words," he growled. Elena's guilty expression answered his unspoken question. "Christ. I swear, she is the most self-absorbed woman…"

Elena knew Damon had always had some sense of apprehension when it came to Katherine. Their personalities had clashed from the beginning and Katherine's constant flirtatious remarks were always quickly shot down. But Elena had never seen him _that_ upset over her. "Well, she is the one that got me here, Damon. Without her, who knows what would have happened with me and Frank?"

Damon rubbed his hand over his eyes. "I know, I know. She just… pisses me off sometimes. She shouldn't have left you to fend for yourself."

Elena's first instinct was to argue with him, remind him that she was an adult, but then she remembered her juvenile display on the phone. She wasn't really in a good place to make that claim believable.

"If you've been stressed all week, why didn't you pick up my calls?" Damon asked.

Elena's gaze went down towards her bare feet. "I was _embarrassed_, Damon. I mean… god, I try so hard to prove myself to you and within three hours, I wanted you here. I couldn't admit that to you. I hated feeling so helpless and I was terrified if I heard your voice, I would break." Elena shook her head back and forth, feeling the stress rise back up like bile. "God, I should never have called you here. This was so stupid."

"Hey, hey." This time, Damon's hand did settle on her knee, the warm heat of his palm instantly forcing Elena to temper herself down. "Elena, look at me." Elena's eyes shot up to meet his, swallowing down the lump that had formed in her throat. His intense gaze nearly did her in, but she maintained it as he waited for her to settle down her breathing. "Elena, there's _nothing_ wrong with asking for help. Remember, you're not a burden. Especially not to me." His serious expression cracked as a small smile broke across his lips. "You know I missed you. If you hadn't asked me to come here, I would have had to make up an excuse."

Elena sniffled, wiping away the stray tear that had formed moments earlier. "You're just trying to make me feel better," she shot back, her own matching smile creeping onto her face.

Damon smirked. "Well, partially. But I did miss you."

Elena hated the tingling she felt in her stomach at his words. It was the same tingling she'd had back in college when she'd had the dumb schoolgirl type crush on him. It had faded over the past few months to where she rarely felt it, but ever since she'd heard Damon tell her he'd be on the next plane, the tingles had come back. She refused to go back to her naïve idiotic self, even if it was only a version of her from a few months ago. She'd felt like she'd changed so much since then and had finally become the kind of woman Damon could actually be friends with. It was just incredibly hard to stay neutral when he was staring at her and saying things like _that_.

"You should probably go back to bed," Damon spoke up. "Don't want you falling asleep on the job tomorrow."

Elena sighed, shaking herself out of her thoughts. "There's no way I'll be able to fall asleep for at least another hour or so. I slept too much during the day."

Damon grimaced. "Well, what else can I do to make you feel better? Do you want me to run lines with you?"

Elena shook her head, rubbing her hands down her thighs. "Can we just… I don't know… hang out? Sit on the couch, watch TV like we do at home? I think taking my mind off of it would be the best option. I'm done overanalyzing."

Damon nodded. "That sounds like a great idea. Hopefully, it will put us _both_ to sleep."

* * *

Damon was sitting in the only chair positioned on the top half of the deck, staring out into the black sea, lost in thought. His head tilted when he heard Elena come up behind him. "Hey, sleepyhead."

After only about five minutes of watching TV, Elena had passed out again, her face firmly planted in the couch cushion. Not wanting to wake her, Damon muted the television and draped a nearby blanket over Elena's sleeping figure. The show wasn't nearly as interesting without sound so he'd decided to sit out on the deck instead and enjoy the late night breeze. Besides, he was still pretty awake thanks to the time difference.

"Hey," she mumbled back, her arms wrapped in the aforementioned blanket. "What time is it?"

"I think it's around three in the morning."

"Christ," Elena groaned. "I'm going to be _so_ dead tomorrow."

"You should just go downstairs and try to go back to sleep."

Elena scoffed. "Yeah, like that will happen."

"Well, you said that the last time and after five minutes of a Friends rerun, you were drooling all over me."

"Shut up," Elena grumbled, inciting a chuckle from Damon. "Can I sit with you?"

"Yeah, if you can find a chair," Damon replied. "They can get you oceanfront property with four bedrooms and private beach access, but they can't shell out money for more than one deck chair?"

Elena laughed. "There was a storm earlier this week. I was told to move all of the chairs to the lower half of the deck. This was the only one that was too heavy for me to carry."

Damon nodded. It made sense. It was a large wooden chair that even _he_ would struggle to take down a flight of stairs. "I'll go grab you one, then."

"No, it's fine. I'll just share with you." And before Damon could protest, Elena was settling her legs to drape across him, her blanket falling halfway across him. She wasn't exactly sitting in his lap: the chair was wide enough that her ass was settled directly next to him. But her mostly bare legs were firmly settled on top of his thighs, her knees tucked up so she could settle the bottoms of her feet on the other side of him. Damon sighed, leaning back in his chair as she adjusted the blanket around the two of them, flashing him a quick smile. She did a few more seconds of shifting around, adjusting herself slightly so that most of her back was leaned into his chest, avoiding the sharp indent the wooden arm rest would have caused. Once she was done, Damon moved his arms so that they were loosely around her bent legs and contorted torso.

"Comfy?" He asked, his tone partially mocking.

"Yep," Elena replied, either completely missing his sarcasm or choosing to ignore it.

They sat together without words for a while, just allowing the sounds of the ocean to fill their ears, but Damon could practically _hear_ Elena thinking next to him. Listening to waves crash was not nearly as distracting as watching a television show; in fact, it probably _encouraged_ one to think about life's biggest issues rather than avoid them. Hell, it's what he'd been doing out here until she showed up.

"Alright, talk to me. What's still bothering you?"

"Nothing," she mumbled, totally unconvincingly.

"You're going to have to do better than that, Elena. Come on, you know you can tell me whatever's on your mind. I didn't come out all this way for the seafood."

Elena took in a deep breath, her body beginning to awkwardly shift in her place and causing Damon some discomfort. She stayed silent so Damon tried again. "Elena-"

"I don't want to talk about it," she snapped. He immediately noticed the regret in her eyes at her harsh tone. "It's embarrassing," she qualified softly.

Damon sighed. He had no clue what she was referring to, but he wasn't about to humiliate her into revealing it. He wasn't going to lie though: he _was_ thoroughly intrigued by her words. "Well, here's the deal. You can either keep it in your head, let it fester and stress you out. _Or_ you can talk about it and possibly make it better. But I'm not going to force you into discussing anything you don't want to."

It seemed like Elena hadn't taken the bait, her head just digging the slightest bit more deeply into his chest and her gaze going towards the frayed ends of the blanket. Damon's focus went back to his steady breath and the oddly comforting feel of her body slightly rising against his with every inhale. A voice in the back of his head reminded him that these were the sorts of things he was missing out on by choosing to be a one-night stand kind of guy, but another voice debated that Elena seemed more than willing to provide the sensation, if only for the night.

Her shaky voice interrupted his thoughts. "It's the scene I have tomorrow."

"What's it about?" Damon replied.

Elena let out an exhale. "It's a… um…" The next words came out so quietly and so quickly that Damon barely caught them. "_Asexscene_."

"A _sex_ scene?" Damon pushed himself back as far as he could in surprise, slightly turning Elena in his arms so that she had to face him. Now, Damon had heard that there were some racier scenes in the movie, but for some reason, he'd never considered how far they might go.

"Well, not like a full out sex scene, but one where I… um…" It was hard to tell in the darkness, but he was fairly sure her face was bright red. "Hold on."

Elena shot up from the chair, racing back inside. Damon let out a breath, rubbing his hand down his face as some images he _really_ didn't want to own up to began flashing through his head. Elena Gilbert doing a sex scene? No wonder she'd had a mental breakdown. She couldn't say the _words_ "sex scene" without looking like she wanted to throw up.

Damon's mind drifted to the bikini incident not so long ago where the Elena he'd known had disappeared completely and out had emerged… well, he wasn't exactly sure who that had been. Regardless, she needed to find whatever had motivated her in that moment if she was ever going to get through the next few months.

A spark of possessive heat flared through Damon when she returned, holding the script in her hands opened to a specific page. He grabbed it from her as she went to stand right on the edge of the deck, leaning on the railing. "You, um… aren't doing, like, nudity in this, are you?" Damon asked. He mentally cursed when he realized he sounded more like a twelve-year-old boy than anything else.

Elena spun around. "_God_, no. But… well, just read."

Damon's eyes went down to the page and began skimming over the words. He blew out an exhale as he read what was actually a dialogue-less scene. In short, Elena's character, Marlowe, was supposed to be doing something in the kitchen when "Brandon" would come up from behind, wrap his arms around her, and, well, to be blunt, stick his hand down the front of her pants in an attempt to get her to forget about a recent argument. All of the testosterone-fueled, purely male parts of Damon's brain were on high alert and he was pretty sure they'd be set for days with the verbal imagery provided.

Elena began speaking again once she sensed he was done. "It's not the most scandalous thing my character does in the movie, but it's the only scene where I'm supposed to, um… get off on camera. And… I don't know exactly how to do that."

Damon was now speechless in his seat. He dropped the script down next to him, not needing to see any more of it. He wasn't sure how to comprehend the fact that he was discussing _orgasms_ with Elena and her fear that she wouldn't be able to properly express one, however fake. The sicker, cruder parts of his brain were ready to offer her the opportunity to learn just how, but he shoved the thoughts back down. "Does anyone on set besides Katherine know about your… lack of experience?" He finally managed.

Elena furiously shook her head. "No. But they _can't_ know. If they ask any questions, I'll lie. They don't need another reason to regret hiring me."

Damon sighed, leaning forward onto his forearms. Elena's quiet, timid voice rang out again over the ocean's sounds. "I, um, watched some… porn online to try to see what they did and I guess I'll just imitate that, but… I don't know. It seems kind of overdone."

Damon couldn't stop the groan that came somewhere from the back of his throat. Yeah, there was no way in _fuck_ Elena was allowed to say something like that. Thankfully, his hands were still on his face so it was muffled. He desperately tried to find something in him to push back the mental images of Elena watching porn or, worse, the idea of Elena making the same faces as the women _in_ porn. Of course, those faces came along with a host of other things that forced his jeans to become slightly uncomfortable.

He tried desperately to shake it off. He was stuck in the shitty spot of both wanting to help her and wanting her to move on from the subject as quickly as possible. "Yeah, those probably aren't your best bet. They're pretty over exaggerated."

Elena rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms as another breeze blew past. "I'm freaking out, Damon. It's… it's going to be _humiliating_."

Damon had no clue how to coach her through this and he hated that. He assumed that someone on set would be able to help her out if worse came to worse, but she was right. She'd probably have to embarrass herself first before they'd realize she had no clue what she was doing. Damon wanted to convince her to let someone on set know, but he knew she was too self-conscious to admit that "fault" in her character out loud. The logic was twisted, but it was the logic she was going to go by, come hell or high water.

He decided to do the only thing he _could_ do: take her mind off of it and try to cheer her up. "Is this the first time you've had to do something like that on set?"

Elena shook her head. "No. First day, the director made me do a make-out scene with each of the guys. He said it would help us break the awkwardness or whatever, but it was fine."

Damon's eyes nearly bulged out of his head in shock. "You've already made out with two other guys?" He asked, letting out a disbelieving laugh.

"Yeah," Elena replied, her gaze still out on the sea. She was speaking with enough nonchalance that she could have been discussing the tide calendars. "That was easy. If you're trying to show lust or desire, at least you're doing something. Tomorrow's scene is completely faked. He'll barely even be touching me. Besides, after like thirty takes of the same kiss when you're standing in a room with thirty other people, it's not exactly terrifying anymore."

Yep. Damon was pretty sure his brain was officially permanently fried. "So making out with someone is nothing for you now?" This was definitely not the girl he remembered begging him to kiss her so she could get her first one over with.

Elena shrugged, still not realizing the full effects this conversation was having on Damon. "I guess so. I mean it's so technical on a set. It's easy."

Damon chuckled, taking the bait she'd unknowingly laid out. "Oh, _really_? I see we've gained some cockiness since the last time around."

Elena pivoted on her heel, a mischievous smile lifting the corners of her lips. "Well, I don't want to _brag_, but… I may or may not have gotten some compliments."

Damon smirked, happy his mission to take some of her stress away was working. "Well, now I kind of feel cheated," he shot back teasingly.

Elena's eyes widened, a faux appalled expression on her face. "_Excuse_ me?"

Damon shrugged, doing all in his power not to break and laugh. "Well, these guys got experienced, highly-trained Elena. First dibs probably weren't as good."

He saw that familiar fire spark up in her eyes. "Are you saying that our kiss was _bad_?"

Damon's eyes sparkled. "I'm just saying that I feel like I missed out."

Elena stared him down, giving him the same look she had given him right before she'd knocked his crutches out of his reach in their living room. It caused the now-familiar flow of adrenaline through his veins, the same rush he'd gotten right before he slept with Andie or Jessica. And the rational part of him that told him his teasing was now in dangerous territory was blocked out by the anticipation of what she might do next.

Elena took the few steps to meet the edge of his chair and leaned forward, resting her shins slowly on either side of his lap. She didn't sit, but rather stayed suspended, resting her weight on her knees as she straddled him. Damon swallowed at her proud expression, her face mere inches from his.

"Elena." The rational side of him slipped out when he saw a flicker of trepidation flash across her eyes. Her name was a warning to both of them, another reminder that what they were doing was stupid. "I didn't mean you had to-"

But Elena seemed determined to win yet another challenge. "I don't like how unsure you seem of my capabilities," she replied coyly. "Besides, I'm used to it now. It doesn't have to be a big deal. Just friendly." He wasn't sure if that was meant to reassure him or her, but he figured out what "it" was pretty quickly.

Damon's hands slid up her bare arms, the conflict raging in his mind. How the _hell_ had his sex life changed so rapidly in just a few days? If Elena had done something as outrageous as this a week ago, he would have immediately pushed her off. But after his two encounters with other women, he found himself far more agreeable with the casual nature of what Elena was offering. The same dark voices from before reminded him that he was trying to take Elena's mind off of things, make her feel more comfortable. Why would it be so awful if he got something out of the deal as well?

He felt Elena's arms tense slightly under his hands as she noticed the decision in his eyes and he wondered if she was going to suddenly change her mind. But instead, she took whatever courage had gotten her through her job the past week and began leaning in. When she was halfway there, their eyes locked and it was as if an unspoken agreement was formed.

_They were just friends. This was just for fun. It didn't mean anything._

When their lips finally and cautiously met, both let out a relieved sigh. Elena's more than likely stemmed from her stress while Damon's inherent desire was just happy to finally be acting on the sexual tension he'd built up while listening to her discuss porn and orgasms.

Elena was the one to change the course of the kiss; after all, she was the one with the point to prove. The touch of her lips now came more forcefully and she parted her mouth, giving him an invitation he was all too willing to accept. Damon's hands moved from her arms to her back, holding her into him more tightly as he deepened the kiss right back.

Well, Elena had definitely been right. She knew what she was doing now. There was no first kiss awkwardness or hesitation, but rather a controlled and experienced rhythm to her motions. Her tongue sliding across his own reminded him that two other guys had experienced this now. He didn't have that weird claim over her. He would always be her first, but never her only. And that thought made a streak of possessiveness come over him.

Now, Damon felt like he had something to prove, too. She was so nonchalant about kissing someone else, mostly because with those two other guys there was no underlying emotion or lust behind it. Like she'd said, it was too technical to really feel anything. Damon thought it would be fun to knock her off of her high horse a little bit.

The idea of leaving Elena weak at the knees was what caused him to take the lead, surprising her slightly as his grip on her tightened and he met her motions with equal intensity. He could sense her faltering, but she quickly came back from it. He'd be damned if he ever learned why a challenge to her sexuality was what seemed to ignite her passion the most, but he wasn't going to pretend it didn't equally thrill him.

Both he and Elena could sense that the kiss was coming to what should be its end. They'd each made their points and Damon knew that if he pulled away now, they'd both be breathless. But he sensed trepidation on her part to end it as she pulled back only an inch, her forehead resting on his.

If he were smarter, he would have cracked a joke, broken the tension that had formed, and then sent her off to bed after convincing her that she'd been right all along. But something was blocking him from doing so. And it was all summed up in the fact that he just didn't want to.

They'd already established a long time ago that he was attracted to Elena and he'd stopped trying to convince himself otherwise shortly after, but he'd never allowed anything beyond that. Now, though, she was in his arms, kissing him really _well_ and with no thoughts as to why it might be a bad idea. And it felt _good_. It was a pretty caveman style of thinking to just want to keep doing something because it felt good, but he'd spent all week doing things purely out of instinct. Now, it felt like a habit.

Another part of him realized that Elena had yet to pull away as well, almost as if she were waiting for him to give her a reason to continue. And the quick passing thought that he probably wouldn't have this chance again was what caused him to grab the back of her head, fist her hair, and pull her back in.

_Thank god_, Damon thought as she responded in earnest. They'd knowingly both gone over the line, but Damon was just grateful she was willing. Her tongue entangling with his, her strands of hair twisted around his fingers, and the night breeze rushing over both of them… it felt _damn_ good. And it felt even better knowing that they were doing something only because it felt good and felt right, consequences be damned.

Elena's legs, which had been holding her suspended above him the whole time, gave out, and she gently settled herself into his lap. Through the haze of the kiss, he noticed that she bucked slightly at the feel of his erection and moved over onto his left thigh. Obviously, feeling his arousal was a little too real for Elena to handle, but he wasn't going to fight her on it as long as she kept practically eating him alive.

Damon sucked Elena's bottom lip into his mouth, slightly scraping his teeth along its puffy surface, and it caused Elena to slide forward on his leg. The whimper that fell from her lips at the sensation of the friction caused Damon to let out a groan, ripping his head away from her.

Elena froze when he pulled away, her eyes showing her fear that she'd done something wrong. Damon wanted to let out another noise just from the innocent expression on her face, but most of all, he wanted to keep reality away for just the slightest bit longer. And the idea that formed in his mind was so twisted that he couldn't even stop himself before it came tumbling from his mouth.

"I can help you."

Elena blinked, her eyes still dazed from the effects of the kiss. "What?" she mumbled, her breath fanning out onto his face.

"What you were worried about… I can help you."

Rational, good guy Damon had been tucked so far back in his brain the past few days that he could only faintly sense the alarm bells that were going off at his words and what he was offering. Elena, on the other hand, immediately tensed.

She made the move to shoot off of his lap, but his grip held her down. "Damon, we can't… that's…" Their make-out session had diminished Elena's will power significantly and even _he_ could tell a part of her wanted to continue as much as he did.

"No, Elena. I don't mean like _that_. But I can help you… show you what it's like." Damon barely recognized his own voice, clouded with lust. It wasn't even the voice he'd used with Andie or Jessica. It was unique, ignited only by Elena. "I can do it by barely touching you."

Elena blinked, his words tainted in sex and she began to awkwardly shift again. "Damon, we're friends. We can't…"

"It's just as friends, Elena. You're going to have to do it on set with him. Why not do it tonight with me?" His logic was _totally_ flawed and, as a lawyer, he already had six different arguments against himself, but Elena's conflicted gaze was softening. He knew he was partially taking advantage of the fear she had over the upcoming scene, but he'd convinced himself that he was doing what he came here to do: save the damsel in distress.

Elena was now refusing to meet his eyes, her gaze floating down to where her hands rested on his chest. "How?" She whispered so quietly he could barely hear her.

Now, it was Damon's turn to feel slightly embarrassed. "You can use my leg like you just did. If you grind against it for long enough…" He didn't need to fill in any more blanks. She could put two and two together.

Elena bit her swollen lip. "We're outside," she mumbled. "Someone could see us… or hear us."

"It's too dark and it's too late," Damon replied. Damon couldn't have cared less about where they were at this point. And if it made her feel any better, he would carry her inside and to her bedroom, but right now, the idea of having her in his arms as she experienced the intense feeling of release for the first time ever was his first and only priority. The caveman had once again overcome the good guy and he wasn't planning on trying to fight it.

Elena's gaze was locked into his and she looked almost scared to be this close to him. Regardless, he felt the drag of her hips along his jeans as she attempted to do what he'd instructed. But the movement caused Damon to laugh.

"Damon," she whined, her face immediately flushing bright red.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Damon replied, still unable to get the smile off of his face. "But you're not scanning a bar code at the grocery store. It's more fluid than that." Elena still looked ready to run after his quasi-rejection so he let out a sigh and placed his hands on her hips, his tone growing more serious. "Like this." Using the pressure of his grip, he helped her roll her hips along his legs. Elena bit her lip in response as she finally gathered the motion.

Damon was still in shock that she'd actually acquiesced to his pleas and was willing to do anything to make her stay. He watched her shuffle between the two choices, her gaze still focused on her lap rather than his face. But finally, after what felt like the longest minutes of his life, Elena eyes rose up to meet his. "I don't want you just staring at me. Can I, um, kiss you while…"

Damon fought back a scoff. _Could she make-out with him while she grinded against his leg until she came?_ Yeah, like there was more than one answer to _that_ one. "Of course," Damon nodded, trying to mask his eagerness.

There was still the slightest, last bit of hesitation that furrowed her brows. Damon sighed, pushing back the strands of hair that had fallen over her right eye thanks to his mussing. "Elena, you're safe," he murmured. "It's just me."

And with that, he saw the determination settle in her gaze. She leaned forward and captured his lips again and he felt the slow drag of her pelvic bone along his thigh. As Damon deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue along hers as a sort of calming mechanism, he sensed her growing more at ease with the motion. One of his hands went to rest at the nape of her neck while the other settled on her hip, seemingly just going along for the ride.

Damon nearly bit his tongue trying to hold back a groan when he heard Elena's first whimper. She'd clearly come to the point where the effects of the friction were starting to be pleasurable rather than awkward or uncomfortable. And as her body began to realize that by continuing the movements, it could achieve relief, her hips began moving the slightest bit more quickly, becoming more like the inherent hip movement nearly every human is familiar with.

This realization on her part made her kisses a little less refined and her nails dug into the fabric of his shirt. Both of their breathing picked up speed, as Damon's grip on her grew tighter. She wasn't even touching the part of his body that wanted her most, but every grind of her center against his jeans sent a bolt of heat to his dick.

Damon's hands ran down her back as Elena's hip motion slowed, becoming a more forceful and deliberate drag. The slight trembling in her arms and the more frequent whines against his lips finally forced Damon to let out the groan he'd been holding back. This was _fantastic_ and he was left trying to recall all the reasons he'd avoided something like this in the first place. Especially when Elena ripped her lips from his and leaned her mouth into the crook of his neck.

Her body wanted to fall over the edge and it wanted to fall over as quickly as it possibly could, but the effort Elena had already exerted was tiring her and her motions became less fluid as a result. Damon's lips, now unable to reach her own, moved down to her exposed neck, as his hands gripped her hips and began guiding her movements. Elena's hot breath picked up against his neck as he rocked her against him. He forced himself to not rest on any one section of skin for too long, knowing she wouldn't want to have to explain a hickey to anyone on set.

Elena let out a whine, her hips beginning to buck against him in their desperate attempt to find release. "Damon," Elena whimpered. He felt it all the way in his groin. "I can't… I can't…"

She couldn't manage any more, but Damon realized what she was trying to convey. Obviously, the grinding wasn't enough. Something needed to be amplified or added to get her to where she so greatly craved. "What do you need?" His voice was husky with his own desire.

A large part of him was hoping she'd ask him to just take her on the surface of the deck, but she was barely able to even form words, too far gone in her yearning. "I need to… n-need…" Elena cut herself off, biting into his shoulder enough to make him curse, her hips jolting as her internal wires grew even more twisted. "Pl-please," she finally spit out.

Damon still wasn't sure what she was asking for, her hips going back to the smooth, deliberate motions from earlier. He slid his hand around from her lower back to her sides and his thumbs grazed against the top of her shorts. Elena's motions suddenly ceased, her arms still trembling as she let out a whimper. Damon's eyes shot up to meet her own, his hand not moving from its position.

When their gazes met, he saw what was being considered. Elena wanted his touch, his _actual_ touch on the part that ached for him, and Damon was more than willing to offer it. But that… that decision would cross the line they'd set the moment she'd straddled his hips, the line they'd set the day they'd moved in together. If Damon's fingers were what brought her to orgasm, they could no longer cross this off as just some friendly help. Not that her dry humping his leg was exactly a platonic choice, but they could have probably written it off as one. Damon _actually_ touching her, Elena rocking her hips into his hand until she came… it was far too intimate. And by doing so, they'd be breaking their unspoken rule to remain friends and nothing more. This… this was something more.

"Elena," he murmured. Damon knew it would be incredibly painful to walk away, both figuratively and literally, but he needed to give her that option. The option to stay in the safety zone and pretend this had never even happened. She knew enough about the building up of pleasure now that she'd be able to reasonably fake it in a few hours when she was asked to. There was no reason to continue beyond simple yearning.

But Damon knew what it was like to be that desperate for release. You were ready to sell your soul, the feral, untamed parts of you overriding anything else. For Elena, she'd never had the opportunity to build up self-control to fight against it. To expect either one of them to make a logical, rational decision… well, it would be a miracle.

And so when Elena let out another whimper and dropped her forehead into his neck, beginning the slow, forceful hip rocking once more, Damon's hands slid around to the elastic waist, his fingers cautiously slipping underneath the band and hitting…

"Shit," Damon murmured, as his hands touched a soft patch of hair rather than the stretch of underwear he'd been expecting. The fact that the entire time she'd been rolling herself against his leg, they'd only been separated by a thin pair of cotton sleep shorts made him worried that he might come before she did. He couldn't even think about his own release, though, as her hips began moving at their more frenzied pace, not satisfied with his slow descent to the place she needed him.

But when Damon's hand slid down, her hips lifting just slightly from his leg to allow him access, the first touch of the pad of his fingers to her clit caused her to abruptly come, letting out a keening cry into his chest as the sensation she'd been searching for washed over her. She'd been a lot closer to the edge than Damon had been expecting and guilt fell over him as he realized that she probably would have been able to get off without crossing over the aforementioned line.

Elena trembled in his arms, trying to catch her breath as the waves of pleasure flooded through her body. Damon slid his hand out of her shorts, subtly wiping his fingers on the sides of his jeans before wrapping his arms around her, holding her secure to Earth. "I've got you," he murmured, an uncharacteristic display of tenderness that he hadn't been expecting.

Elena panted into his neck, only left with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Damon's thumb swept back and forth across the cotton of her tank top, waiting for her to come back down from the high. Damon tried to take his mind off of the throb in his jeans by focusing on the steady crash of the ocean against the shoreline. He could fix his own situation later.

When Elena's body finally stopped quaking and her breathing returned to normal, Damon tried to help her pull back, but she fought against it, keeping her face buried into his shirt. Damon frowned. "Elena."

"Fuck," she whimpered. And it wasn't the swear that came after being totally and utterly satisfied. It was the type that came when you'd done something you totally and utterly regret. "Fuck."

Before Damon could think of something to say to put her at ease, she began struggling against his grip, now desperate to get out of his lap. He didn't fight it, untangling his arms from around her waist and she took advantage of it immediately. She was up and back inside the house before he could fully comprehend her intentions to escape and when he called out her name, it just reverberated back off of the glass door as she slid it shut behind her, rushing across the living room and turning the corner to go back downstairs.


	11. May 2007, Part Three

**Hello lovely readers!**

**I apologize in advance for a shorter author's note than usual. I have a ton left to do before my classes tomorrow and am just barely getting this up for you guys. Thankfully, the chapter ended up longer than I expected it to so at least you all have that to look forward to.**

**As some of you might know, I'm sincerely considering taking this fic down. There are many reasons as to why it might happen, but mostly it stems from a large disparity between the amount of love and support I have for the story and the love and support it's receiving on here. Don't get me wrong: those of you that are showing your love for this story are showing it tenfold. I'm blown away by the response I've gotten from some people and it makes me happy to know that I can write something for those of you that are such fans. But, unfortunately, I need to determine whether the hours (and I mean HOURS) I'm spending every week putting this up for you all are worth it. The numbers don't lie and they indicate that a lot of people don't like this story. It's really discouraging and hard for me to reason continually posting chapters only to get a lackluster response.**

**Of course, I love how I'm giving this little speech on such a polarizing chapter, but it had to be said. Please know that it's only a possibility and not a guarantee and I hope that possibility doesn't discourage you from continuing to read. Regardless, I do want to thank you all for every review, message, and favorite/follow I've already received. Sharing this story with you guys is one of the best parts of my week and I hope things work out so I can continue to do so.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

**May 2007, Part Three **

"_Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up." – James A. Baldwin_

When Damon woke up the next morning, he felt hung over. It was a surprising sensation, given that he'd only had one beer the previous evening, but as his mind did its daily recall, he could understand why he'd feel so groggy and worn down. Damon bit back a groan, the streaming sunlight from the window covering every inch of the room. He wanted to go back to sleep, but after checking his phone, he realized it was almost noon.

Damon stood, stretching out the parts of his body that had tightened overnight and went to pull on the jeans from the evening before along with a grey t-shirt. He contemplated where Elena might be and whether he should make the effort to find her, but determined finding some source of caffeine was his first priority.

After Elena had run off on him, he'd wanted to go after her so they could talk it out like adults, but he'd had a much more pressing issue to deal with thanks to what had transpired. By the time he was in a more manageable state, although still pretty wired, it was almost 4:30 in the morning and he hoped that Elena had somehow managed to fall asleep. Keeping her up any later when she had work the next day just to have a stressful conversation she'd fight with every inch of her life wasn't exactly the best decision he could make.

He knew that the conversation needed to happen, though, and it needed to happen as soon as possible. Too many lines had been crossed and too many boundaries had been broken for it to be ignored and forgotten. Not that Damon was going to forget that encounter any time soon. It was pretty much burned into his skull for the rest of forever.

But once Damon got upstairs, he realized fairly quickly that Elena had already left for set. And thanks to the fact that Elena had left no note for him or message on his phone, he had no clue just where "set" was. That meant he was stuck alone for the rest of the day until whenever she came back. Movie shoots could go well into the night, but he hoped since it was a Friday that it wouldn't be too late.

He decided he could at least enjoy the location while he was there. LA felt so urban that seeing miles of uninterrupted ocean and shoreline was a blessing. After making some coffee, he grabbed Elena's copy of the script she'd left at home. Damon hoped she had more than one and not that she'd forgotten her only print at the house.

Damon was about ten pages in when his phone started to go off and after glancing at the caller ID, it took all of his power to not throw the phone off the deck.

"Katherine," he grumbled into the receiver. "Just the person I had no desire to speak to."

"Ouch. I'm hurt, Damon. Now tell me where your office is."

Damon's eyebrows furrowed. "Why?"

"Because you and I have a hot date with some forms. Since Elena is far, far away, we need to sit down and discuss getting you unlisted, security on the apartment, possible relocation, etc."

Damon frowned. "I'm sorry. I think I heard 'relocation' in there. You want to try that again?"

Katherine let out an exaggerated sigh on the other end of the line. "Yes, Damon," she replied, as if she were talking to a four year old. "I said 'possible' relocation. Once press kicks in for this movie, Elena will have paparazzi, fans, stalkers… I'm assuming you don't want to get phone calls in the middle of the night from some panting middle aged man simply because you were too lazy to get your number out of the White Pages."

Damon sighed. "Well, I'm a little busy right now, Kat. We're going to have to reschedule."

"It's 'Elena business,' Damon. I thought you always dropped everything and ran when it came to her."

Damon bit back a growl. Katherine's constant mocking of his supposed crush on Elena was one of the many things that made him detest her. Once she was thoroughly assured that the two would never get together, she was highly entertained with what she assumed would be rubbing it in Damon's face. A part of him wanted to inform her of the previous evening's events just to scare the shit out of her, but he knew that what went down should stay between him and Elena.

"I'm actually busy with 'Elena business' right now," he muttered. Damon really didn't want to inform Katherine of where he was, but he knew just how persistent she could be.

She picked up on what he was insinuating quickly. "Christ, you can't last one day without that girl."

Damon's frustration grew. "Yeah, well I'm helping her out of a mental breakdown since you abandoned her as soon as you got bored."

"Oh my god, she's an _adult_, Damon. Why do you insist on treating her like she needs a babysitter?"

"You and I both know she's an exception-"

"Because you treat her like one!" Katherine paused, her voice growing a bit more serious. "Elena is my client and I respect her, but take off the rose-tinted glasses. You think she's special so you treat her like she's a special case, but to the rest of the world, she's just another naïve, emotionally challenged basket case. I'm trying to help her overcome that, but you running to save her every time she whines isn't going to do shit for her. She needs to grow up and realize she's going to have to work to be appreciated in this world. So _back off."_

Damon's gaze focused out on the ocean, anger pumping through his veins at her accusatory words. "Your job is to get Elena to where she needs to be career wise. But Elena needs someone on _her_ side. She needs a friend. That's _my_ job."

"Whatever you have to say to help you sleep at night. I don't particularly care what _your_ job is as long as it doesn't fuck with _my_ job. And right now, you being there is fucking with my job."

Damon sighed. "Well, clearly, you're just going to have to wait until I come back to LA. In the meantime, why don't you tell me where she is right now so I can go do my job?"

"Her shooting schedule constantly changes, Damon. I only have one draft-"

"Better than nothing."

Katherine let out an exaggerated exhale. He could hear her flipping through papers in the background. "You're going to regret going out there."

"I doubt it," Damon mumbled.

* * *

"I'm sorry. This is a closed set."

Damon sighed. It was probably the fifth time this woman with a headset had stated this. He'd already explained multiple times whom he knew and why he wanted to get onto said closed set, but she wasn't having it. When he'd grumbled something under his breath about Elena not being _nearly_ famous enough to have crazed fans, she'd given him an even more suspicious look and scribbled something down on her clipboard. He was just getting ready to give up and go home when a cheerful voice spoke up from behind her.

"Don't worry, Melinda. He's cool."

The aforementioned Melinda gave Damon one last look-over and then sighed, moving on to more important tasks. Elena, who was dressed in a sweatshirt and cut-off shorts, shot him a large smile. "How'd ya find me?"

Damon crinkled his eyebrows. "Uh… the she-witch, Katherine."

"Hmm," Elena frowned for a moment, but the smile came back moments later. "I'm surprised you'd actually deign to contact her."

"I just thought it would be important to see you so that we could-"

There were loud shouts coming from down the hallway, scattered commands from the staff as people rushed through different doors. Elena cut him off. "Well, I have to go shoot some more stuff, but you can wait in my dressing room. There's plenty of stuff to entertain you."

Damon was completely baffled by her demeanor. The trembling, scared girl from yesterday couldn't keep the grin off of her face. She was so perky she might as well be a tour guide for the studio. It made him wonder just how their "conversation" would go, but before he could ask how long she'd be gone, she was already racing down the hall towards the set.

She hadn't told him where her dressing room was exactly, but he meandered down in the direction she'd nodded her head when she offered it up. Thankfully, it was only a few doors down from where he'd been accosted by Melinda. When he pushed the door open, he rolled his eyes. She was right that there was plenty of stuff in there. It was just as well stocked as her house was.

Knowing he was now going to have to sit in her dressing room for God knows how long, he was sort of regretting not just staying at the house. At least there he could have sat out on the beach and enjoyed the sun. Damon plopped down on the couch, grabbing the remote off of the coffee table and turning on the small television hooked into the wall. He might as well get comfortable.

Damon was only there for about an hour when the door suddenly swung open, a guy about his age entering. His eyes widened. Clearly, he hadn't been expecting the room to be occupied. "Oh, hey. Sorry."

Damon pushed himself up a bit from his relaxed position, rubbing his hand over his face. "No, you're fine. If you're looking for Elena, though, she's shooting."

The guy smiled. "Yeah, I know. She's shooting with Mason. I wasn't looking for her. I was just going to leave this in here." He pulled out a folded up piece of notebook paper from his back pocket. Unfolding it, he showed Damon an incredibly detailed sketch of what appeared to be a largemansion.

Damon wasn't really sure what to say to the guy. Why he was leaving Elena a drawing was totally beyond him. "Uh, it's good. I'm sure she'll like it."

The guy laughed. "_Like_ it? She's gonna hate it!" At Damon's confused expression, he continued. "She refused to believe me when I said I was a good artist. So, I put a bet on it."

Damon's eyebrows furrowed, but he put on a polite smile. "Well then, I guess you proved her wrong."

He scoffed. "Nah. I'm total shit. It's one my ex gave me a long time ago. I'm just lucky she didn't ask me to draw something in front of her. _Then_ I would have had a problem."

Damon nodded, accepting the drawing and placing it on the coffee table. The guy didn't seem to take the hint that he should leave so Damon had to kick in his Southern manners. "So, uh, do you work here?"

The guy gave Damon a confused look, biting back a smile. "I don't mean to sound like a complete and total douchebag here, but uh… you're not big on movies, are you?"

Damon suddenly realized what the guy was inferring and he felt slightly embarrassed. "Ahh… you're an actor."

He smiled. "Yeah, I've been around the block a few times." He extended his hand. "I'm Stefan Marino."

Damon stood to meet his hand. "Damon Salvatore. I'm Elena's friend." He'd actually never made that introduction before, but it sounded strange rolling off of his tongue.

Stefan nodded and he noticed something flicker across his eyes. "So, you're just visiting the new movie star?" His tone sounded somewhat patronizing.

Damon frowned, his guard going up. "Uh, yeah I guess you could call her that."

Stefan smirked and reached his hand out, patting Damon on the shoulder. "Good for you. You're a lucky guy. But… I wouldn't get any ideas."

"What are you talking about?"

Stefan sighed, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Look, I get it. The girl wasn't much to look at in high school, but you knew her well enough to feel some sort of connection. Now, she's moving on to bigger and better things and suddenly she's starting to look a whole lot shinier. You think you have a shot. All I'm saying is you showing up here's a little pathetic."

Damon's lips parted, already ready to fire back something equally offensive. _Who the fuck did this guy think he was?_ But before he could retort, Stefan cut him off. "Besides, she's taken."

Damon paused. "By _who_?"

Precisely at that moment, as though they'd planned it, Elena came to the open door, that same damn smile on her face from earlier. Stefan smiled, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her in, something that didn't seem to faze her in the slightest. "By me."

_What. The. Fuck?_

Elena looked up at Stefan, giggling, as Damon's stunned gaze shifted back and forth between the two of them. "'By me' what?" she asked.

"Just telling your friend here about our relationship." Stefan leaned in, whispering something into her ear that Damon couldn't hear, only infuriating him more.

Elena let out a gasp, giggling again at whatever he'd said. "Oh my god," she cried, smacking him on his chest. "This is _Damon_, my roommate back in LA!"

Stefan's gaze shot to Damon, who probably looked ready to ring the guy's neck by this point. A relieved laugh fell from his lips, letting go of Elena and raising his hands in surrender. "Sorry, bud. Just protecting my girl here." He crossed behind Damon, plopping down on the couch where he'd been sitting earlier.

Damon's gaze flickered back to Elena who was just rolling her eyes. "You're such an idiot," she said with a smirk, her words directed towards Stefan.

"You're going to have to get used to it, princess. Soon you're going to have all sorts of creepy guys following you around. Somebody needs to freak 'em out a bit. But I guess Damon can take my job now, right?"

Damon was still trying to absorb the exorbitant amount of information that he'd received in the past two minutes so he simply nodded. "Yeah. Sure."

"Sorry about that, Damon," Elena interjected. "It was just a quick shot, though. I hope you weren't too bored."

"Nope, I'm fine. Are you done for the day?"

"Yeah," Stefan called out from behind Damon. "You done after a long day of me rocking your fictional character's world?"

Damon pursed his lips. So _this_ was "hands down pants" guy_… Great. Just perfect_.

Elena giggled in response, but kept her focus on Damon. "Yep, I'm all done." He noticed some discomfort pass through her eyes at her words, but it was subtle. "We can go back to the house whenever."

"Woah, wait!" Both Damon and Elena turned their attention to the guy on the couch. "I thought we had a date."

Damon was now ready to make the guy choke on his own cockiness. He turned to Elena. He was tired of looking like an idiot and anytime Stefan opened his mouth, he was made the fool. "Elena, is there something-"

Elena looked shocked that he'd even ask. "Oh my god, _no_! Stefan's just a friend. I completely forgot that we were supposed to go to dinner tonight."

Damon nodded, relief flowing through him. It wasn't as if he was opposed to her dating anyone. It just should _definitely_ not be this guy. He was absolutely fulfilling the douchebag male actor stereotype.

"Do you mind if Damon tags along?"

Damon's eyebrows shot up. _Wait, she was still going to go to dinner with him?_ _Why wouldn't she just postpone? They were going to be working together all summer. I'm only here for a few nights. And I definitely don't want to spend one of those nights playing nice with Stefan._

"Of course," Stefan replied, standing from his place. "I'd love to pick the roommate's brain."

Damon bit back a scowl as Elena grinned. "Perfect. So, instead of picking me up, Damon and I will just meet you at the restaurant."

"Sounds good, doll. See you tonight." As he was leaving, almost as if he were doing it _just_ to aggravate Damon, he planted a kiss on Elena's cheek, igniting a fiery blush across her face. Once he was gone, Elena crossed the room, nonchalantly packing some items into a tote bag.

Damon was left in a mix of shock and frustration as he watched her move around the dressing room_. Who was this girl?_ Sure, they really hadn't had any alone time to discuss the incident on the deck, but she was also acting as if it had never even happened. She was carefree, confident. She hardly seemed like the scared little girl who had called him a few days ago, sobbing on the phone. And, clearly, she wasn't the friendless loner on set that she'd insinuated she was.

For some reason, not seeing her in the expected distress pissed him off. Plus, she hadn't even _asked_ him if he was okay with going to dinner with Stefan. By the time he figured out what to say to confront her on her irritating actions, Elena turned to stand in front of him, full tote in hand.

"Well, I drove here myself so… I guess I'll just see you back at the house?"

"Elena-"

"What?"

Damon paused, looking her up and down. Maybe, just maybe, he'd done something right. Maybe his presence had actually just been exactly what Elena needed. All he'd wanted when he came here was to see her again and make her feel better. It now seemed that he'd done both.

Remembering the conversation he'd had with Katherine earlier that day, he removed the irritated expression off of his face. If he didn't do his "job" properly, everything Katherine had said earlier would be true. And Katherine being right… well, that was _not_ something he was going to allow.

He sighed. "How'd the scene go?"

Instantly, the calm, secure woman was gone. Elena's face paled and her eyes flashed with obvious discomfort. "Fine," she mumbled. Then she was gone, pushing past him and out the door.

* * *

"Is this okay?"

Elena was standing in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom, her gaze focused as she straightened out the short black dress she'd thrown on a few minutes earlier. She turned her head at the sound of Damon's voice behind her.

She hadn't acknowledged Damon's presence in the house since they'd left the studio a few hours earlier. Once she'd gotten home, she went straight to her bedroom, hoping he'd just assume she was getting ready. She'd actually spent most of that time sitting cross-legged on her bed, trying to keep her racing mind under control. "Um, lose the leather jacket," she replied, hoping her anxiety didn't show in her tone. "It's just a casual beach restaurant and, besides, you'll die of heat stroke anyways."

"Got it," Damon replied. He left the room to put the jacket back in his own, giving Elena enough time to bring her heart rate down to normal. A part of her hoped that he would leave her alone until dinner, but she heard his footsteps coming back down the carpeted hallway after only a few seconds. When Damon appeared back in her doorway, he had a small smile on his face.

She desperately tried to channel whatever strength she'd found earlier that day when faced with him. When she'd seen Damon on set, her heart had dropped to her stomach. Ignoring what had transpired was easy to do when she was busy with work, but having him standing only a few feet away from her made it nearly impossible. But she'd taken a few deep breaths and chosen her attitude like a character to play. A character that was confident and serene under pressure. A character that wasn't completely and totally overwhelmed after having her first orgasm in her best friend's arms.

"You look great," Damon remarked, moving to sit on her bed. "I feel underdressed."

Elena allowed a small smile to form on her lips. Yeah, compliments on her appearance were _definitely_ not helping her maintain calm. "Thank you. Sorry about making you do this. But it won't be too long."

"It's fine," Damon replied, his gaze moving around as he took in the room. She noted that his tone sounded a little forced, but she knew she wasn't exactly making it easy for him to feel comfortable.

Elena crossed to her bathroom, grabbing and applying a lip gloss from the counter. "So, _honey_, how was work?" His tone was teasing, but she still felt her muscles tense at the implications behind his words.

She was definitely not going to talk about _that_ scene, regardless of how surprisingly well it had gone. Telling him that, by thinking of him and their heated make-out scene on the porch, the director had been able to get a great shot in only a few takes… yeah, that was _not_ something she was willing to discuss. She somehow felt even more bashful about the scene than before. A large part of didn't like that she'd done so well at looking completely turned-on. It might have just been a character she was being paid to play, but she still felt like it reflected upon her in some aspect. Of course, she was fully aware she'd spent ninety-five percent of her life being shamed for showing even a hint of her sexuality. The guilt from those years was still crippling and having Damon as a living, breathing reminder of her mistake wasn't helping.

And a _mistake_ was just what it had been. It hadn't felt like it at the time. Well, maybe it had, but she'd been too clouded over with lust to recognize it. She'd just been screwing around when she'd straddled his lap to kiss him. Prove him wrong, knock him off of his pedestal a bit… That's all she'd bargained for. But then she'd fucked up… _majorly_. She'd crossed a line and done something completely stupid. Once again, she'd fucked up the one solidly good relationship she had. And since she didn't know how to fix it, acting as if it never happened was the best choice possible for her psyche.

"It was good," she responded, entering back into the room to drop the lip gloss back in her purse. "Thankfully, there was nothing too emotional today. Those scenes are always really draining."

Damon nodded, standing back up as he realized she was almost ready to leave. "Understandable." As he crossed the room, he sidled up directly next to Elena. His hand reached out, resting on her lower back with a feather-light touch. "Ready to go?"

But Elena's nerves immediately went on high alert at the feel of his hand and she flinched, ducking away from the innocent gesture. Having him touch her brought back too many memories of the previous evening and she wasn't prepared to pretend it didn't affect her. Of course, her sharp movement wasn't the slightest bit subtle and she noticed what looked like hurt in Damon's eyes as he registered what she'd done.

"Sorry," he mumbled. His expression was that of a wounded dog.

Elena's lips parted, desperate to try to remedy the situation. She wanted to apologize for her odd behavior. She wanted to tell him that she didn't hate him, only herself. She wanted to tell him that all day she'd just wanted a hug from him, but was too terrified of being in his arms again. She wanted to tell him that they could have a long discussion after this dinner was over and work out all of their issues. She just wanted to tell him _anything_ that would take away the strain that had been so present all day long.

But she couldn't. She was a coward on top of everything else. She shook her head back and forth, throwing her purse over her shoulder and pushing forward. "Yep. Let's go."

* * *

Damon's gaze was firmly stuck on his drink, twisting the near-empty bottle back and forth in his grip. He'd found if he stared too long at the pair across the table from him, the strong desire to deck Stefan across the face became almost unbearable. If he didn't look directly at them, he could tamper it down.

He'd spent the entire evening being the third wheel on what felt like a date between Elena and Stefan. He knew it wasn't _actually_ a date, but he had a strong feeling Stefan would have tried to make it one if Damon hadn't been there. It would have been easier to handle if Elena hadn't been hanging on Stefan's every word, laughing hysterically at the stories of his escapades and previous one-night stands. The stories may have actually been humorous, but Damon was too infuriated to enjoy them.

If Andie had been sitting at the table with them, she would have leaned in by this point to whisper in Damon's ear that _this_ was the guy he should use as a role model. The thought made him sick. Stefan was the epitome of a man whore and Elena was eating it up. The only derision he noted on her face came from when she was mockingly making a face at a particularly gross or explicit description. Damon had a sneaking feeling that whenever _his_ new choice of lifestyle was revealed to Elena, she wouldn't show the same acceptance.

Elena had taken the occasional break, though, to shoot Damon an intense glare. His disdain for this dinner was clearly showing and he wasn't about to ramp up any more bullshit politeness just to appease Elena. She'd gone out of her way to make things uncomfortable for Damon all day long. Fuck it if he was going to take it lying down.

"So my ex is throwing a straight tantrum, just finding the most expensive shit in my house, _literally_ running around trying to find it, and then just smashing it into the wall."

Elena's eyes were wide with over exaggerated interest. "What are _you_ doing the whole time?"

"Just sitting there! I mean what else can I do?! The guy's a hell of a lot stronger than me."

Well, _that_ one shot Damon straight out his pity party. It must have been comical the way Damon abruptly sat up in his seat, eyes nearly as enlarged as Elena's. "Wait, I'm sorry. I think I misheard you. Did you say '_guy_?'" He could barely keep the shit-eating grin off of his face.

_Stefan is gay. Stefan is gay. Thank Christ, Elena's going to spend the entire summer making out with a gay guy._

But, given the expressions on both of their faces, his question wasn't appreciated. In fact, Elena's stare was now blazing with revulsion.

"Uh, yeah," Stefan replied, his patronizing tone making Damon unnecessarily feel like a dick.

Damon bit back a growl. He wasn't _trying_ to be a homophobic douchebag. He just wanted to clarify that this guy wasn't interested in females. Now he wouldn't have to worry about him spending the whole summer trying to get in Elena's pants.

"Stefan is _bi_, Damon." Elena's words were filled with distaste as she practically spat them out. She was almost daring him to have a problem with it.

Damon desperately wanted to defend himself, but he was back in the territory of having to hate the guy. Clearly, he hadn't thought his question through. Stefan had been talking about women for most of the night. And Damon had jumped to a misinformed conclusion. Now, he had to recover.

"I didn't know." He tried to muster up as much genuine regret as he could, but it was hard to find. "I was just making sure I heard you correctly."

Stefan smirked. "No problem, bud." Damon was seriously starting to hate his new nickname. "Can't help it if I want to enjoy all of the delicacies in the world." Damon could only produce a half-smile at Stefan's exaggerated wink.

Elena still looked ready to rip into Damon, but she thankfully turned her attentions back to her seatmate. "So, finish your story."

And just as quickly as they were ripped out of it, Stefan and Elena were back in their own little world. "Well," he replied, his eyes alight with mischief. "_I'm_ starting to get turned on by this. I mean he's basically turning into the Hulk just because I broke up with him. So I'm like 'Nik, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry I'm such an asshole,pPlease forgive me, yada yada yada.' I mean I'm laying it on _thick_. It's like the guy forgets I'm an actor!"

"Tell me you did not sleep with him!"

"Um, duh! Then, I broke up with him again and threatened to call the cops if it took him more than five seconds to get out of my house."

As Elena burst into hysterics again, Damon felt bile rise up in his throat. _This_ was the guy Elena had chosen to become BFFs with? Yeah, she was getting a _strict_ lecture when they got home. But first, he wanted to knock the douche off of his pedestal a bit.

"_Nik_? Is this, uh, the ex you told me did that drawing you gave Elena?"

Elena's eyes widened, turning towards Stefan. "Wait, you didn't draw that house?!"

Stefan's jaw was dropped, but his expression stayed playful. "Maybe I got some help…"

Elena smacked him on the arm, unable to keep the grin off of her face. "Oh my god, give me my money back! I knew you were a shit artist!"

Stefan rolled his eyes, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket and handing her a twenty. His attention went to Damon. "You're killing me, bud."

Damon smirked. "Sorry. Gotta protect _my girl_." He wasn't proud of himself for stooping so low as to throw Stefan's words back in his face, but he _was_ satisfied with the flicker of discomfort that flashed through his eyes when he did.

Stefan settled into his seat, instantly falling back into his relaxed demeanor. "So, Damon. I hate to be the only guy talking here. And _you_ seem like quite the ladies' man. I'm sure you have some wild stories you can share with us."

Damon knew he was just baiting him. Stefan already knew his stories would beat Damon's simply because he'd spent most of his adult life in the entertainment industry. His sex life was guaranteed to be far more interesting. But before he could come back with a retort, Elena cut him off.

"Oh, no. Damon's _actually_ a decent guy unlike you. In fact," her tone dropped down to an exaggerated whisper. "He's only slept with one woman his _entire_ life."

Damon's smirk instantly dropped. _Was she fucking serious?_ She was practically mocking him for something she'd once found so endearing and it made his blood sizzle. Stefan's shocked expression only made it worse. And at that moment, Damon realized he was done being the fool in this situation. He was not going to be written off as some country bumpkin with a schoolgirl crush on Elena and Stefan's eyes indicated that was all he saw. Plus, he _desperately_ wanted to knock the confident grin off of Elena's face. Now, he was just itching for a fight.

"You're mistaken, Elena," he remarked. His tone would come off cool and confident to Stefan, but to Elena, it was stuffed to the brim with cruelty. "I've slept with three."

As Elena's eyebrows furrowed, her smile fading away, he shot a smirk to Stefan. "But she's right. I don't exactly have the most exciting sex life. You win."

Stefan's cocky expression had dropped slightly as he noticed the newly formed tension in the air between Damon and Elena. Elena was still giving Damon a baffled expression, leaving the trio nothing else to discuss. In response to the uncomfortable silence, Damon simply smiled, taking one _long_ final sip of his beer.

* * *

Elena hadn't spoken to Damon the entire drive home, but once they pulled into the driveway, she was _raring_ to go. The rest of the dinner had been incredibly awkward thanks to his ridiculous attitude and now, she was pissed. She knew she wasn't exactly innocent in the situation, but for him to act like he did was above and beyond.

The second the car was in park, Elena was out of the vehicle and up the stairs. She could practically feel Damon's eye roll behind her as he followed . Once she'd finagled the keys out of her purse, she swung the door open and marched up the staircase to the top floor, knowing by the heavy footsteps that he was following behind her.

Elena threw her purse on the kitchen counter, slowly turning around to face him with arms crossed. Given his expression, he clearly knew he was in trouble.

"Alright, lay it on me," he remarked sarcastically, causing another bolt of fury to flow through Elena's veins. He was standing in front of her with a nonchalant air, his hands tucked into his pockets.

"You were a _dick_ tonight, Damon. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Really? Because I feel like I missed the asshole memo Stefan _clearly_ got. I was simply playing catch-up."

"At what point was Stefan blatantly and heinously rude to you?"

"Um, since the second I met him. He obviously thinks I'm some sort of idiot."

"Well, you're not exactly giving him much reason to believe otherwise!"

"Oh, come on, Elena. He's so _fucking_ condescending!"

"You're just being oversensitive-"

"Why? Because I'm _jealous_ of him? Newsflash, Elena. I'm not exactly making minimum wage here. Plus, at least I'm not a total douchebag!"

"Stefan is not a _douchebag_, Damon. He's my friend. He's been nothing but kind to me since I got here which is more than I can say to you. I don't know why you had to treat this dinner like some sort of pissing contest!"

"Oh my god, this isn't a competition-"

"_You_ acted like it was! The sarcasm, the lying, the snippy remarks-"

"Excuse me?! When the hell did I _lie_ tonight?"

Elena balked. "When you pulled that 'slept with three women' crap! I mean, Christ, you were like an insecure teenage girl."

Elena noticed as Damon's rage subsided significantly. His gaze was focused out the French doors onto the deck and he didn't seem like he was going to make a retort any time soon. Suddenly, a realization came over her. "Wait… you don't count… last night-"

"Oh my god, _no_, I wasn't counting last night." His fiery gaze shifted back to her. "And I wasn't lying."

Elena's swallowed, intimidated by his hot stare. The new information made her feel nauseated. "So, you lied to _me_ when you said you only slept with Rose?"

Damon shook his head. "At the _time_, I wasn't lying to you," he replied with gritted teeth.

Elena's head slowly nodded up and down and she hated the lump that was forming in her throat. "So… at some point… between Rose breaking off the engagement and now… you slept with two other women?" She suddenly felt some understanding. "Did you do it for revenge or-"

"This _week_," Damon snapped. "I slept with two other women this week while you were here."

Elena balked. When she'd planned this argument on the drive over, she'd had no clue it was going to turn into this. "Well, you seem quite proud of yourself."

Damon scoffed. "Am I not allowed to be?" His question was a dare.

She let out a deep breath. "I don't _know_, Damon. It seems pretty _skanky_ of you since I'm assuming these aren't women you're planning to court."

At her words, Damon's temper flared. "Oh my _fucking_ god."

"What?!"

"Don't you dare give me some holier-than-thou _shit_ about being a gentleman!"

"I'm not being holier than thou-"

"Oh, really?! Because you seem to be holding a hell of a lot of disgust when less than twenty-four hours ago you were using me as your own personal sex toy!"

Elena bit back a gasp, her jaw dropped. There it was. The topic she'd been so desperate to avoid. She'd hoped that she'd have enough reason to avoid it tonight by being angry with him over his attitude at dinner, but he'd apparently decided to throw it into the mix. Unfortunately, bringing it up caused her to instantly lose steam.

"I was on sleep medication, Damon-"

"Oh my god! _Bullshit_, Elena! Absolute bullshit!" Damon stepped closer to her, causing her to flinch as his finger pointed at her accusatorily. "You knew exactly what you were doing. And you know what? That's fine. I'm not pissed about it. I don't give a _shit_. But don't you dare sit there and make me feel like shit about my sex life when you're not exactly keeping it pure and holy yourself."

His last words hit her right where it hurt. She'd spent all day feeling ashamed of her actions, but having Damon reiterate them felt like a knife in the back. Instantly, the fight left her and she felt herself shut down. She was done fighting. She just wanted to escape.

But Damon was far from done. He scoffed at her lack of response and stepped back from her, running his hands through his hair. "God, Elena. Why am I even fucking here? Because I saw you on set today and you seemed pretty safe and secure without me. And clearly you have an ally in Stefan. So, was that it? Was _that_ all you needed me for?"

"No!" Elena cried, but her voice only sounded meek in comparison to his.

Damon shook his head back and forth. He stalked to the kitchen counter, resting his weight on his hands as he rubbed his eyes. "Fuck," he muttered. "Katherine was right."

Elena's ears perked up at the mention of Katherine. "Right about what?"

Damon took a deep breath, his head lifting to turn to her at a chillingly slow pace. Once his gaze reached her own, his next words came out like poison. "You need to _grow up_."

Elena's jaw dropped. The fight might be out of her, but it still felt like a smack in the face. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Elena."

Elena was frozen, only able to shake her head back and forth. "This whole time, you've been so apologetic about treating me like a kid when I didn't deserve it and _now_ I need to grow up?"

"Well, this whole trip I've been proved wrong. I thought you were in some dire, desperate need from my help. I thought _that_ could be the only possible reason you'd call me, begging for me to save you. But clearly, you'd just had a rough day you thought you couldn't handle on your own. Well, sorry to break it to you, but you're an adult. I'm not your babysitter. _Katherine's_ not your babysitter. You should be able to take care of yourself."

"I can't believe you're saying this. I called you because I needed a _friend_."

"Then treat me like your friend! Don't dry fuck me on your porch and then just run away to pretend like it never happened. Don't treat me like shit in front of other people just to seem cool. And sure as hell don't just stand there staring at me like I've lost my mind!"

Elena swallowed as her eyes began to water with unshed tears. The fight was lost, but she wasn't sure if anyone had won. "I think you should go back to LA," she mumbled.

Damon was nearly panting from the argument's exertion. He nodded. "Yeah, I think so, too." They stood in uncomfortable silence for a few moments before Damon spoke again.

"I'll leave in the morning. Nothing's gonna fly out this late at night. We should, uh… I'll see you at the end of the summer. Once you get back, we can… reassess our living situation."

By "living situation," she knew that he really meant their relationship. By that point, she wasn't sure anything would be salvageable, but the determination in his eyes indicated that it wasn't up for discussion. "Okay," she nodded.

That was the last time Elena talked to Damon for months.

Damon grunted as he lifted his duffel bag back into his rental car. The sun was bright and he was already fighting back sweat, even though it was only six-thirty in the morning. After barely sleeping the night before, he decided that he might as well head to the airport now in order to get a flight as quickly as possible. Besides, he wanted to avoid any unnecessary encounters with Elena after what had gone down.

Damon headed towards the other side of the car to slide into the driver's seat. Once he slammed the door shut, he let out a deep exhale. This trip had gone so far from expectations that he wasn't really sure how to comprehend it all. He definitely didn't want to face the exorbitant amount of emotions that were building up in the back of his head so he decided to be numb to them instead. It was better for everyone if he just left this part of his life behind for a little while. He could come back to it at the end of the film shoot and make a more clear, responsible choice then.

Right before Damon slid his key into the ignition, he noticed a small piece of paper stuffed into his windshield wiper, flapping lightly in the early morning breeze. He frowned, pushing the door back open again to retrieve the offending object. He wondered briefly if the neighborhood association had left him some sort of parking ticket.

But he was quickly proved wrong once he unfolded it.

Scribbled in tiny, neat handwriting that he instantly recognized, the piece of paper only read "Thank you."

Damon wasn't a mind reader. He couldn't be sure of exactly what she was thanking him for. Maybe it was for the dose of confidence he'd allowed her by giving her release in his arms. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't ignored her when she'd called him in the first place. Or maybe, and hopefully, it was for the reality check he'd given her the night before.

Regardless of its meaning, Damon crumpled up the piece of paper in his hands. He considered that she might be watching him from a window, waiting to see his reaction, so he decided not to give her one. Instead, he just slid back into his seat, put the keys into the ignition, and backed down the driveway. Because once he was far away from her potential sight, he could finally say the one thing he'd been desperate to utter since he opened the note.

"Fuck."

**So, what did we think? Can we say _"drama?"_**

**Yes, clearly what happened last chapter was going to cause some stress for D and E and you see it here. My constant goal when writing is to make the journey and the choices believable and realistic. I hope that, regardless of whether or not you may have approved of or liked the choices these incredibly flawed characters made, you see why they would make them. We're going to have a big time jump forward next chapter so be prepared to see some more changes in these two crazy kids, but do remember that this story is FAR from over (if I continue). I believe we're at the 25-35% mark, but don't worry. This "down" in their relationship will lead to a lot more "ups" very soon. It's all part of the process.**

**Alright, like I said, I really need to go, but I do hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. Please leave your reviews and let me know what you think. Hate it or love it, that's fine with me. Your honest opinion is all I ask for. I know I'm far from the best writer on this website (I mean, hello, have you been reading Bourbon in Your Eyes lately?! Good lord. Speaking of which, if you haven't read that fic yet, why are you wasting your time with this one?! RUN!), but I'm so thankful for your continual support.**

**I love you guys so much and I'll see you next time. :)**


	12. September 2007

_Clinging to me_

_Like a last breath you would breathe_

_You were like home to me_

_I don't recognize the street_

**September 2007:**

"I got it, Katherine," Elena grumbled, attempting to heave the last of the two suitcases into the apartment. "Yes, I'll be there as soon as I can tomorrow... Yes, I _am_ grateful for all you're doing to help me… I will be the best damn client you've ever had. I promise." Elena finally got the door closed behind her, the cell phone wedged between her shoulder and ear. "Look, I have to go, but I'll be there tomorrow…. Alright, bye."

Elena let out a deep exhale once the call ended. Ever since the movie had wrapped, Katherine's craziness had increased tenfold. It made sense. Elena had done her part. Now it was Katherine's turn. And after Elena's most recent request, Katherine was increasingly prepared to wring her neck.

Now that she wasn't lugging in six different bags all by herself, Elena could finally take in her surroundings. Although the apartment only had a few minor changes, it still felt completely unfamiliar. It was as if Elena had been gone for four _years_ rather than four months.

Damon wasn't there. If he was, he was hiding pretty damn well. When she'd first unlocked the door to the apartment twenty minutes earlier, she'd just been happy the locks hadn't been changed. But she thanked her lucky stars that he wasn't there to greet her. She needed a little while to prepare. Just the idea of seeing him again after all of this time made her want to vomit from the nerves.

Elena tugged the final two bags into her room with her last bit of strength, not even bothering to start unpacking. Instead, she flipped one of the cases onto the floor, unzipping it and pulling out the first pair of pajama pants she saw and, after digging a bit more, an oversized t-shirt. After changing, she wandered back into the main area of the apartment.

Yet, once she was in there, she realized she had nothing to do. She didn't have a purpose, both literally and figuratively. The film shoot had gone way over time and budget, as this particular director was apparently prone to do, and because of it, the last month or so had been a mad rush to get everything done and perfected. Thanks to her overfilled schedule, Elena had barely had time to breathe. She'd kept herself so busy and occupied over the past few weeks that now, having no obligations or responsibilities, she felt… lost.

She made her way into the kitchen, pouring a glass of water, and then shuffling back into the living room. She didn't particularly feel like watching any TV and it was too late in the evening to find anything good, regardless. As she took a sip from the cup in her hands, she cautiously walked around the perimeter of the living room. Her gaze wandered over the large landscape Damon had been given by a client, the chip in the paint from when Elena had chucked the remote on the floor after a particularly frustrating scene and it had rebounded against the wall. She couldn't even recall what show it was, but she remembered hysterically laughing with him from the couch at the visible dent she'd caused.

Finally, Elena walked up to the mantle over the fireplace. Save for a few decorative elements and a framed picture, it was empty. The photograph was the main feature.

Elena vividly remembered when the picture was taken: their first night in LA. They didn't arrive until nearly two in the morning and they were both exhausted, pissed off, and _starving_ after hours upon hours of travel. They'd assumed that by coming to such a big city, there would have to a restaurant or fast food place open nearby, but they drove around for nearly forty-five minutes without finding a single place. Finally, right at the point they were about to rip each other's heads off, they found a small, somewhat sketchy diner a good thirty minutes from their apartment. Right as they were walking up, though, the manager was outside to lock up, insisting that they were closed. But, after much pleading and some slightly humiliating begging, she finally gave in and told them they could have twenty minutes.

Elena hadn't been back to the diner since and part of her felt guilty for it. The manager, Kim, had warmed up to the pair, allowing them to stay far past their allotted time slot and sharing stories and tips about living in the city while Damon and Elena ate twice their daily calorie needs. Kim loved the idea of people dropping everything to come to LA and follow their dreams and gushed over the story of how the two had met. Before they could leave, Kim had insisted on taking a picture of them to commemorate their first night in LA. Neither Damon nor Elena had wanted their picture taken, but they felt like they couldn't refuse the woman that had been so kind to them.

Kim had actually snapped two shots of the duo. One had been fairly standard. They were sitting on the same side of the booth. Damon's arm rested on the top part of the seat while Elena sat next to him, each with a tired and polite smile on their face. But when Kim had emailed Damon the picture, she'd also attached another one she'd snapped accidentally. In it, Elena's mouth was contorted into a mixture of a pout and a frown, her eyebrows furrowed slightly. Damon was still next to her, but this time his gaze was directly on her, his expression slightly teasing. To this day, neither were quite sure what had led to that particular photograph, but they both decided that it was more _them_ than the other posed one. In turn, _that_ had been the shot they'd purchased a cheap frame for and placed directly on the center of their mantle.

She was knocked out of her reverie by the sound of the door being unlocked. Elena jumped, some of the water sloshing out and onto her hand. _Damon_.

Elena was frozen in her spot until a rush of panic came over her as she realized that he might have a girl with him given how late it was. He would be even _less_ thrilled to see her if she scared off his latest conquest.

Like a bullet, Elena raced back towards her bedroom, placing the glass of water as carefully as she could onto the breakfast bar when she passed it. Just as she closed the door to her own room, she heard Damon enter.

Elena leaned her ear against the wood, listening to see if she could pick up any sounds of another woman. She knew she would seem pretty pervy if she was caught, but she just had to make sure. But the longer she stood there, the less convinced she became that Damon had a guest. She heard him throw his keys into the bowl in the foyer, chuck what sounded like his briefcase onto his side of the apartment, and then make his way into the kitchen. If he did have company, he wasn't being a great host.

Suddenly, the sounds of his normal activity stopped. He was either stock still in one place or Elena had lost the ability to hear. Finally, after what felt like ages, she heard him speak.

"Elena?"

Elena took a sharp inhale at the sound of his voice. She hadn't heard it since May and the knowledge that he was now only a few steps away from her was incredibly overwhelming. Elena immediately stepped back from the door, falling into a seated position on her bed.

Elena was terrified. She'd spent far too much time picturing this moment and now that it was here, all she wanted to do was crawl under the bed and hide. It could go right in so many ways. It could go _wrong_ in so many ways. And Elena desperately didn't want to take the risk. The fury in his eyes from that night at the beach house was still a vivid memory and she couldn't imagine having to see it again.

But, then, Elena remembered what else Damon had told her that night. The phrase that had dictated nearly her entire summer: _grow up_. She realized that Damon was her crutch in that field, her kryptonite. She had to be stronger than the scared little girl who was hiding away in her room or else a whole summer of trying otherwise had been for naught.

Elena took a shaky breath, pushing herself up off of her mattress and making her way to the door. Another bolt of anxiety rushed through her as she twisted the doorknob, but she was determined to shake it off. But after she twisted the handle, she learned she wouldn't have to walk too far.

Damon was already standing only two feet from her bedroom, looking just as surprised to see her, as she was to see him.

Elena felt her breath catch in her throat as she took Damon in. His expensive suit was wrinkled, hair matted to one side. She even noticed the slightest bit of stubble on his face, which was uncommon for his conservative style.

Elena would be a fucking liar if she said he wasn't still goddamned gorgeous.

Thankfully, Damon was the first to break the silence after clearing his throat. "Hey."

Elena couldn't read the emotions on his face for the life of her. It definitely wasn't delight, but he didn't seem upset that she was there either. "Hey," she mumbled back.

The few seconds following their greeting were pivotal for their relationship and it all depended on one thing: would he hug her? In one of Elena's many imagined scenarios for this moment, Damon immediately pulled her into his arms as they both apologized profusely and then spent the rest of the night telling stories to catch each other up on their time apart. But Elena knew the chances of that happening were slim. She realized that she'd missed him desperately over the summer but she doubted that the feeling was mutual. Maybe he'd finally learned he was better off.

But just like that, the opportunity for a happy reunion was taken away as Damon continued the uncomfortable and awkward atmosphere of the room. "Did I wake you?"

Elena let out an exhale. Clearly, her dream of this all being easy was just that: a dream. Whatever had held them together as friends at the beach had been broken, possibly irreparably and now they were just left as acquaintances that lived together. She could read his eyes perfectly. He didn't really want to be talking to her either.

She decided honesty was her best policy at that point. After all, what did she have to lose? "No. I, uh, heard you coming in and thought you might have had company. I didn't want to interrupt anything so I…."

Damon responded with a nod, still not giving her much to work with. "Got it. But, nah, I was just working late." The awkward silence filled the space again and Damon felt just uncomfortable enough to try and fill it again. "Besides, you don't have to ever worry about that. I don't bring women back here."

Elena wasn't sure _why_ he'd included that piece of information. She was also desperate to inquire as to why he didn't, but she didn't want to push her luck. "How did you realize I was here?"

Damon furrowed his eyebrows, not totally understanding her question. "Oh, right," he muttered, finally gathering what she was asking. "The water on the counter. I assumed it had to be you or a thirsty burglar."

Elena smirked. Even in the strangest of moments, Damon found some way to crack a joke. But now, Elena was left with no response. After all of the time she'd had to prepare, she couldn't think of a single thing to say to him. Well, nothing that would leave her with her dignity intact.

"Well, I, uh, should go to bed," Damon mumbled. Elena flinched at his apathetic tone.

"Yeah, sure, of course. Good night, then… I guess." Elena hated the way she stumbled through her words. She'd wanted that slim possibility of reconciliation without effort far more than she'd realized. She wanted to tell him everything about her summer. She wanted her friend back. But clearly, she'd shut that door on herself.

Damon simply nodded and began walking down the hall. Elena watched his retreating back, leaning into the doorframe with a quiet sigh. But, suddenly remembering what she'd discussed with Katherine earlier, she straightened up.

"Damon?"

He stopped right before he went out of her line of sight, turning to face her. His expression was, once again, unreadable. "Yeah?"

Elena took in a deep breath. Making the decision had been easy. Reporting it back to him… not so much. "I, uh, talked to Katherine today and she's going to set me up with my own apartment."

The flicker of emotion that flashed across Damon's eyes was so brief that Elena couldn't identify it. But she was thankful that it was something, even if it had been a flicker of relief. She'd rather spend the night in a screaming match with Damon than just talk to this hollow shell.

"Oh."

A pang of pain hit Elena in the stomach. That word was filled with way too much interpretation and Lord knows she'd spend the next three months of her life trying to figure out what he'd meant. By the time she could even fathom a response, Damon continued on his way, leaving Elena even more lost than she'd felt before.

* * *

"Alright, so is this the part where you tell me you're _madly_ in love with me?"

Elena coughed, mistakenly having taken a sip of water when Caroline asked her question. "I'm sorry?"

Caroline leaned back into the wooden chair, twirling a curly blonde lock around her index finger as she studied Elena. "I don't know. You called me up out of the blue to hang out saying you needed to talk. I just assumed you had a crush."

Elena smirked. "I didn't realize that was the _easiest_ assumption to make. You make it seem like this happens often to you."

"Twice," Caroline replied without hesitation, earning wide eyes from Elena. "Swear to God. One of them was probably going to _propose_ if I hadn't cut him off."

Elena giggled. When she'd called Caroline earlier that day asking to go to lunch, it _definitely_ hadn't been to ask for her hand in marriage. She'd simply missed her friends from set. Stefan was off doing a press circuit for a film he'd shot previously so Caroline had been the next runner-up. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not into you like that."

Caroline smirked, her eyes teasing. "Damn. I probably would have said yes. Can you _imagine_ how hot we would be? They would eat it up."

By "they," the blonde was referring to the media. Elena had learned over the last few months that actors discussed their fame and celebrity with almost no shame or modesty. Not because they were filled with pride and vanity, but simply because it was part of the job. They constantly had to be aware of how they were perceived and where they were ranked in the grand scheme.

Elena was continually surprised that Caroline wasn't absurdly famous yet. If anyone had earned that right, it was Caroline Forbes. She'd been working since she was a toddler, covering almost every single realm of the industry. Yet, she was still able to sit out at the open-air restaurant with Elena without a second glance in her direction from neighboring diners. Well, that wasn't exactly true. Caroline was still stunning, the kind of beautiful that you just have to stare at simply because it's comforting for the eyes.

"Well, to be honest, I wanted your advice on something," Elena replied, pausing to smile at the waiter as he brought them two elaborate plates of salad.

Once they were set up, Caroline gave Elena a roll of the eyes. "Well, I'm _honored_, but I don't think I'm exactly the most qualified person to be giving advice."

Elena gave her a pointed look. "It's about a guy."

Caroline's eyes lit up and she dropped her fork on her plate. "Well, then never mind. Spill… _now_."

"Don't get too excited," Elena mumbled. "It's nothing like that."

Caroline's eyebrows quirked. "Is this about Stefan?" The trio had probably been the closest out of all of the other cast members. Caroline had played "the wife," otherwise known as the woman Stefan's character was cheating on with Elena's. Caroline and Stefan had known each other previously through mutual friends and since Stefan had taken a liking to Elena early on, they'd formed a tightly knit group over the course of the shoot. Caroline was continually convinced that Stefan's liking towards Elena was more than just a platonic one, but Elena rarely gave it a second thought.

"Uh, no. It's about the roommate."

"Ahh, yes. The infamous roommate. How is he doing?" Caroline only knew a small bit of information about Damon. She knew he was Elena's roommate and that he'd known her far before LA, but beyond that, she hadn't paid much attention.

"He's… _okay_. Look, the problem isn't him, though. It's _me_."

"So you like him."

"Caroline!"

"Good lord, calm down. It's not middle school." Caroline smirked, stabbing a piece of lettuce with her fork.

"I know that," Elena flushed. The comment was particularly cutting given its sensitive timing. "I just… it's not _like_ that. This is about me wanting to be friends with him again. Nothing else."

"You didn't answer my question," Caroline countered with a pointed look.

Elena sighed. "_Yes_, fine. I 'like' him, but that's not why I'm asking for your help." Elena ignored Caroline's pleased smile and continued. "He was my best friend before all of this... shit went down and I can't really deal with the idea that he might hate me."

"Alright, so what's the issue? Why did you two 'break up' anyways?"

Elena chewed her bottom lip, not really sure how much she should tell her. She'd told Stefan nearly every detail and he'd simply determined that Damon was being a dick and she should move on as quickly as possible. Caroline might actually give her decent advice. "He just… he told me at the beginning of the summer that I needed to 'grow up.' He's older and experienced and just overall a hell of a lot more put together than I am. And every time I get around him, I just act like this babbling, incompetent twelve year old girl."

Elena paused, twirling the fork between her fingers while it scraped the bottom of the plate. "Look, I _know_ I'm not exactly the most mature person out there. He was right when he told me that. I spent all summer trying to be an 'adult.' I reigned in my emotions. I was responsible. I did all the right things. But now, I'm here and I have to prove it to him if I want our friendship back. I just have no idea how."

Caroline sighed. "Well, you seem like an adult to me. Definitely more than I am and I'm almost twenty-four."

"But you've only known me for the summer! He's seen me at my absolute weakest and most childish. It's going to take a hell of a lot more to convince him I've changed."

"Ooh, show him some tax forms!"

A small smile crept onto Elena's face. "Caroline, I'm _serious_. I've got to think of _something_ or else I'm going to lose him forever.

Caroline's demeanor changed as she realized how dejected Elena was. Her lips pursed as she considered Elena's dilemma. "Well… taking care of someone is pretty adult."

Elena shook her head. "How could _I_ take care of _him_? Like I said, he has his shit together."

"We could inject him with the flu virus while he's sleeping…"

"Caroline!" Elena cried, unable to stop the laughter from bubbling over her lips. She shook her head back and forth. Caroline had been right earlier. She _definitely_ wasn't the best person to ask for advice, but at least she was making Elena smile.

"Fine," Elena groaned. "Just… tell me about your date last night. I can tell you've been dying to all afternoon."

Just as predicted, Caroline's eyes sparkled and she began the dramatic retelling of her evening. Elena simply sat back and listened, ignoring the pit in her stomach as she recognized that she was still left with nothing on the Damon front.

Caroline was a friend and that was exactly what she needed right now.

* * *

Elena groaned into her hands, the words on the page blurring slightly from how long she'd been staring at them. She fought back the urge to chuck her laptop against the living room wall.

Over the summer, Elena had started writing. Not that she was planning on informing anyone of her new hobby. She could already tell it wasn't exactly quality material. Regardless, Elena enjoyed it. Whenever she'd spent a lonely night at the beach house while the _legal_ members of the cast went out and had a good time, she'd pull her computer out and start typing… _anything_. She'd pen long essays of her thoughts or simple ramblings about her day. She'd started over six different books, screenplays, and short stories. They were all just for her and she liked that. It was her outlet, her escape. But, of course, tonight, the words just weren't flowing. And her third idea for a screenplay was coming out to be total shit.

Just as she was about to give up and turn on the television for the second night in a row, her cell phone started to ring. And the name on the caller ID caused her brow to furrow.

"Ric?"

"Hey, Elena! Can you hear me?"

"Um, barely," Elena replied, standing up and crossing to the sliding glass doors. The background on his end of the line was bursting with loud music and shouts. "Where are you?"

"Hold on," Alaric grumbled. She could faintly hear him telling someone he'd be right back and then lots of shuffling as he made his way to a quieter place. When he spoke again, the background chatter was down to a dull roar. "Better?"

"Yeah, yeah. What's up? Is everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Everything's fine. It's just…" Ric heaved a large sigh. "Have you talked to Damon recently?"

Elena scoffed. "I think you know the answer to that one." She knew Alaric and Damon had begun spending a lot more time together as of late.

"Right, sorry. Okay, well anyways, he and I went out tonight and he decided to get completely shitfaced which is fine normally but…"

Alaric trailed off but Elena smirked as she filled in the blanks. "Let me guess. You scored?"

Ric laughed bashfully. "Well, I have a pretty good chance. Look, I really didn't want to call you, but he's kind of a mess right now and _refusing_ to take a taxi. Like I said, normally I would be the good guy and take him home but-"

"But she's really hot and chauffeuring a wasted _idiot_ kind of kills the mood. Ric, I get it. It's fine. I can come get him."

He let out a loud exhale. "Did I ever tell you how madly in love I am with you?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just give me the address."

* * *

"Woah, there." Elena swooped in, grabbing the tumbler away from Damon before he could consume any more liquor. "That's not even close to happening."

Damon's face contorted in displeasure as she slid the glass down the bar towards some confused looking women. "Why are you here?" He slurred.

"Because, Cinderella, it's almost midnight. Can't have you turning into a pumpkin. Now, let's go."

Damon frowned. "Cinderella doesn't turn into a pumpkin. Her carriage does."

Elena rolled her eyes. "I didn't realize your _fairytale_ logic increases when you're drunk."

"One of my many talents," Damon grunted. Elena watched as his head began to droop towards the bar top.

"Alright, Damon," she complained, reaching out to lift it back up. "Seriously, don't make me drag you out of here."

Damon scoffed. "You can't drag me. You're too tiny." He pinched his fingers together to emphasize his point, but his hand simply fell to the side.

"No, you're right. _But_ I know someone that can."

"Alaric left. He's getting… sex." Damon paused, his eyebrows furrowing as though he were contemplating the meaning of life. "And I'm not. Something's wrong here."

"What's _wrong_ _here_ is how absurdly intoxicated you are." Right as the last word fell from her lips, the bartender was crossing in front of them. "Excuse me!" Elena called.

The bartender stopped. He was fairly attractive, but he had the completely unappealing stench of _douchebag_ written all over him. "Hey, beautiful," he replied, his eyes dragging up and down the part of her figure he could see. "What can I do for you?"

Elena groaned. "Oh, give me a break. I'm wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. I'm not buying anything from you." His smile dropped immediately at her extreme disdain. "Now, here's the deal. Either you or one of your bouncer friends is going to help get _my_ friend into my car or I'm going to happily report you all for blatantly over-serving him." Although the bartender tried to maintain his cool, she could see the small amount of fear in his eyes at her threat and it caused a surge of pride to rush through her.

He made some sort of signal to grab the bouncer's attention as Elena went to help get the first half of Damon's body up from his seat. But the second she touched his shoulders, he jostled her off. Elena bit back a growl. At least she had strength on her side.

"Damon, come on. Don't make this difficult," she reasoned. She hoped he still had enough dignity to not want to be dragged out on his ass. On cue, the intimidating bouncer had joined the pair.

"What seems to be the problem?" He asked, his voice gruff.

Elena turned her attention to him. "I need help getting him out of here. He's being stubborn-"

Damon suddenly let out a growl, his expression one of disgust. "Oh my god, I'm getting up! I'm getting up. I don't need to be _carried_." He pushed himself up and off the bar, the strain on his face nearly comical as he did so. Without waiting for Elena, he simply began heading towards the door.

"Do you still need me?" The bouncer inquired.

Elena's gaze was torn between following her uncoordinated roommate and dealing with the offered help. "Uh, I guess not. Just… stay close in case he tries to bolt." Elena reached into her purse, pulling out her wallet so that she could tip him for his service, but she was stopped by his large hand gently batting hers away.

"Nah, m'am. Don't worry about me. Looks like you have enough to deal with tonight." His head nodded towards the stumbling Damon.

Elena smiled. She wanted to argue with him, but she realized arguing with a guy three times her size was probably not the most brilliant idea. "Yeah, he'll be… fun."

After thanking him, Elena pushed her way through the crowds, catching Damon right as he went to reach for the door handle. She was able to cut past him before he could go down the street in the wrong direction, mostly because his coordination was almost as far gone as he was. "Car's this way."

"Why'd you pay him?" Damon mumbled, luckily allowing her to guide him towards the parking deck.

"I didn't, Damon," Elena replied, his weight starting to droop into her hands. "But I was going to because he helped me."

"I help you," he shot back. "You don't _pay_ me."

Elena bit her lip, grimacing slightly as nearly half of Damon's mass leaned into her. She adjusted her grip as they reached the cement walls of the parking garage. "_No_, I don't. But I'll be out of your hair soon enough."

Damon was silent for the rest of the walk over to the car. Once they arrived, Elena rested him on the side door as she fumbled with the keys. Getting him into the passenger seat wasn't exactly her most graceful moment, but at least he didn't try to run.

"Can you buckle yourself, Damon?" His blank stare was straight ahead and it slightly worried Elena. "_Damon_?"

"Not in my hair," he grumbled.

Elena's eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"You're… you're not in my _hair_," Damon replied, his voice slightly more determined. "You're in my…" He trailed off for a few minutes as a sound somewhere between a wheeze and a cough escaped from his lips. "_Heart_," he finally got out.

Elena's eyes widened, feeling her own heart beat more quickly. "What?" she repeated. Except this time, his answer was far more important to her.

But instead of a sentimental or dazed expression like she expected, Damon's face was now pained and he let out a groan. "My heart," he complained. His breath quickened. "It's beating really fast."

Elena's wide eyes were now filled with panic rather than wonder. Adrenaline rushed through her veins. Her maternal instinct kicked in as every worst case scenario passed through her brain. "Hey, hey, Damon, you're going to be fine. Just try to take deep breaths." She grabbed onto Damon's hand who slightly squeezed it as he attempted to calm his breathing while she dug through her purse for her cell phone. When she finally finagled it out, her shaking fingers could barely dial the three numbers.

"Elena, _fuck_," Damon groaned, reaching out with his other hand to grab the phone from her. "Don't call the damn hospital! I'll be fine."

Elena's gaze shot up to him. She was grateful that his cheeks had slightly more color in it and that he no longer looked scared, but she was not going to put up with his stubbornness simply because he didn't like doctors. "_No way_, Damon. You need to get this checked out."

Damon replied through deep breaths. "Elena, it happens sometimes. I've had it since I was a kid. I had some energy drinks as mixers… My body got a little pissed off. Seriously, it's already slowing down."

Elena's own heart was probably beating faster than his was, but this was probably the most lucidity he'd had all night. His gaze was pleading as it fell on her. She could tell he was doing his best to convince her. "Damon, I swear to God-"

"I promise, Elena! I'll be fine. I just need to go get some sleep." He now looked almost normal, although his drunken flush was returning. Whatever episode he'd had was over.

Elena hit him on the arm. "Jesus Christ, Damon! You scared me."

"Ouch," Damon groaned. "I still feel like shit."

"Good," Elena mumbled. "You should. I'll also be checking your pulse every half hour tonight, so get ready for some rude awakenings."

"Fine," Damon grumbled. "Just take me home."

Elena sighed, giving him one last long glance to be reassured that he'd be fine. She hoped he wasn't bullshitting when he said it had happened before. Her alcohol knowledge was so slim she really didn't have anything to compare the situation to. After calming herself down enough to drive, she pushed away from the car, closing the passenger door and making her way to the driver's side.

* * *

By the time they made it into the front door of the apartment, Damon was basically nonfunctional. He had to lean his entire body weight against her, his speech was so slurred it sounded foreign, and his eyelids kept flickering closed. Elena made sure to lock the door behind her, throwing the keys on the counter as she leaned him against the wall. Thankfully, he seemed able to stand on his own.

She made her way into the kitchen, searching for a glass so she could put some water next to his bed. Elena paused her search, however, when she felt his presence directly behind her.

"What's that?" His voice was groggy, but damn it if it wasn't causing her to flush regardless.

"What's what?" She replied calmly, heading towards the sink to fill an obtained glass with water.

"That." Elena turned her head and noticed that he was pointing at something on the far end of the counter. Elena followed his gaze to a covered cake plate that held her project from earlier that evening.

"_That_ is your belated birthday cake." Elena had spent her night, before she'd settled on the couch to write, baking. She'd missed his birthday over the summer while they'd been apart and she decided to make it up to him as another last-ditch effort to win him over. She also had a card for him, but she was still deciding whether or not she was actually going to give it to him. "August 3rd, right?"

Damon was silent for a moment, but it wasn't too unsettling given his state. When she turned to walk him to his room, he finally mumbled out his new favorite one-syllable response. "Oh."

For what felt like the eighteenth time that night, Elena bit back a growl. She was starting to get really sick of not being able to tell where Damon's head was. She was about five seconds from screaming at him to just tell her exactly what he was thinking.

Damon collapsed onto his bed face first the moment they walked into the room. Elena placed the full glass next to him on the night table, knowing that whenever he woke up again, he would definitely need hydration. She made her way to the end of the bed, yanking off his shoes one by one and chucking them onto the floor.

"_Expensive_," Damon slurred in protest, his voice muffled by the duvet.

"I don't really _care_, Damon," Elena murmured. "Now get under the covers, please."

Damon grumbled but didn't put up much resistance, awkwardly shuffling to a crouched position so he could pull himself under the blankets. Elena knew he'd probably be more comfortable with his shirt off, but she decided he could suffer for a little bit longer.

Elena stared at him as he laid on his back, head slightly turned, eyes shut, and a frown marring his features. She suddenly had a brief flashback to the alcohol education seminar the university had required her to take and she crossed to his bathroom to grab the small trash can, bringing it back to place it directly next to his bed.

"Damon," she whispered. He didn't even flinch. She couldn't tell if he was asleep or just ignoring her.

Worry propelled her to keep trying. She sat down on the small edge of the bed his body had left on his side and pushed his matted hair off of his forehead, finally causing him to stir. His eyes blinked open, staring at her as though he was surprised she was still there.

"Damon, I'm leaving the trash can right here. If you feel sick, I need you to use it. I also want you to call me if your heart starts up again… Okay?"

Damon continued to stare up at her and she was slightly concerned he hadn't heard her. "Damon-"

"You look different."

Elena sighed. She would just have to hope that he'd listened to her plea. "How so?" She murmured.

"Older. You look older."

Elena blinked, taking in a breath. Suddenly, Caroline's words from earlier that week flashed through her mind. _"Taking care of someone is pretty adult." _Elena swallowed, releasing a polite smile as she pushed herself off of the bed and left the room. Maybe, just maybe, they were moving in the right direction.

* * *

Damon held back a groan as his wet hand only hit metal bar. He'd reached his hand out to grab a towel off of the rack, but, as he now realized, he was shit out of luck. He pushed the glass door of the shower open even further, frustrated with himself for not realizing his error sooner.

He knew Elena was somewhere in the apartment, but he didn't think it would be the smartest idea in the world if he wandered out naked to the linen closet. His next best bet, though, still involved her.

Damon stepped out of the glass shower, making his way to the door as he cracked it open just slightly. He grimaced as the air conditioning hit his wet skin. "Hey, Elena!"

After only a few seconds, Elena appeared in the small hallway that connected his bedroom and bathroom together, her eyebrows furrowed at his odd positioning. "Is everything okay?"

Her calming voice brought back unpleasant memories from the prior evening and also reminded him of how shitty he felt. "Uh, yeah. Can you do me a favor, though?" Elena nodded. "A towel?" A wave of embarrassment flowed through him. She'd spent all night catering to his ridiculous whims. Now he had to ask her to walk a few feet just to get a damn towel. Yeah, he had some _serious_ sucking up to do.

Elena nodded again, seemingly unfazed by the request and headed towards the closet. After she came back with the aforementioned towel, Damon smiled in thanks, grabbing it from her and moving back, making sure the door obscured her from his view as he wrapped it around his waist. When he pulled the door open once he was decent, Elena was already heading back to the main part of the apartment.

"Elena," Damon called. Elena turned, her expression a mixture of worry and curiosity. "Can we talk?"

The concern on her features tripled at his words, but she nodded regardless, coming into the bathroom. He noted her clear efforts to avoid looking anywhere but his face and he held back a smirk. Even after months of being apart, the parts of her that were so inherently Elena were still present and it was inexplicably comforting. Especially since her actions over the past few weeks had been practically unrecognizable.

Elena hopped up on the counter next to the second sink, her legs lightly dangling over the edge. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Decent enough to go to work," Damon replied, grabbing a bottle of cleanser off of the counter top. "Shitty enough to bitch about it to Alaric all day."

Elena mockingly pouted. "Aw, don't do that," she teased. "He probably had a successful night. Let him enjoy it for a little bit longer."

Damon smirked. "God, that's right. _Ric_ got laid last night. Something is definitely wrong in the world."

Elena rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you mentioned that already."

Damon's smirk fell away at her words and he suddenly remembered how much he owed her. He paused his routine, focusing his gaze on her. "Look, last night was fucked up of me. I made some stupid mistakes and you shouldn't have had to come in and clean up my mess. I'm sorry for the way I treated you last night and that you had to waste your evening taking care of me."

Elena's face flushed slightly, but she shook her head back and forth regardless. "You don't have to apologize to me, Damon. You're allowed to fuck up every once in a while. You're not… totally ancient yet." Her words ignited a smirk on Damon's face. "Besides, I kind of owe you in the whole 'taking care of each other' department." Elena's meek gaze immediately fell to her lap.

Damon recognized that they were both tap-dancing around the elephant in the room: their fight at the beach. This was the most serious, god-honest conversation they'd had since then and he wasn't really sure where they stood. He'd told her to grow up and she had…. _Hadn't she_? Ever since she'd been home, she'd been selfless, truthful, and just overall more put-together than she'd ever been before. But he also realized the time he'd spent with her since she'd come back had been trivial. How would he really know she'd matured, the change that needed to happen to make their relationship work, if he didn't let her all the way back in? And if that _was_ the only way, was he willing to do it?

Damon cleared his throat, realizing he'd zoned out in his own thoughts for a little too long. "How is the apartment search going?"

He swore he saw the slightest of flinches cross over her features at his words, but she met his gaze directly. "Well. Katherine's found me a place. We just have to figure out all of the ridiculous paperwork, get approved… that sort of thing."

Damon sucked his bottom lip between his teeth in thought. There was another question that had been plaguing him: did he actually _want_ her to move out? He was fairly sure it was the best decision for both of them. Close quarters typically led to shitty choices. But did he _want_ it? Had all of this time spent apart really determined that they were better off without the other?

"Oh," Damon nodded, going to grab his shaving cream from the cabinet. But before he could, Elena's hot grip caught his wrist.

"Oh my god," she growled. "What the hell does that even mean?!"

Damon frowned, surprised at her outburst. "What does _what_ mean?"

"What does '_oh'_ mean?!" Elena cried exasperatedly. "You've said it like six times since I've been back and I have no idea what the fuck you're saying so, please, explain it to me."

He sighed. Damon knew it was a cop-out, but it was the best way to summarize his emotions towards everything. It was either one syllable or fifty thousand. "Oh" just seemed to save them some time.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "I'm not really sure what… any of it means." Damon waved his hands in a sweeping gesture, but Elena knew what "any of it" referred to. Their fucked up relationship (if it still existed), her decision to move out, each of their actions from the previous night. Neither participant seemed willing to sit down and "Oprah" themselves through a deep, meaningful conversation. So, instead, the stubborn pair were stuck in limbo until one or the other broke. And Damon was beginning to fear that they were both just going to combust at the exact same time.

Elena took in a deep breath as her tight grip on his wrist loosened. "Well," she murmured. "We're _talking_, aren't we? I feel like that's some sort of positive progression."

Damon let out an exhale, lowering his wrist as Elena took her hand off of his arm entirely. "Yeah, you're right. I think this is the most we've talked since…" He trailed off. She could fill in the blanks.

Elena nodded, more resolute in her calm determination. "Well, then we'll just keep talking, even if it's stupid stuff. We can keep moving forward with our own lives, but we just need to… talk every once in a while. Okay?"

A small smile tugged at Damon's lips. "Yeah, of course. I'm fine with talking."

Elena matched his smile. "Good."

They were silent for a few moments as Damon went back to getting ready for work. Elena was the one to finally break it. "Damon, why didn't you tell me about your heart… thing?"

He shrugged, keeping his gaze focused on the mirror as he shaved. "I don't know. It's really not that big of a deal. Sometimes, my heart just overreacts to stuff. It's really, really rare, but it happens. I just have to make sure I can sit somewhere and let it slow itself down. It's not gonna kill me unless I aggravate the problem when it occurs." He shifted his focus to her. Elena still seemed worried and he smiled in an attempt to comfort her. "Look, if it was actually an issue, you would have found out about it a lot sooner. I survived last night, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you just scared the fuck out of me in the process."

Damon nodded, understanding why it could freak someone out. His mom had nearly had her _own_ heart attack the first time she'd gone through it. "I've been taught what to do if I actually can't control it on my own. There's a damn cheesy hand signal and everything."

Elena's eyes widened. "You should teach it to me," she said eagerly. "You know, just in case."

Damon sighed. "I will later." Elena looked unconvinced. "Seriously, I will. But I have to get ready for work. I'm already running late."

Elena finally nodded, giving up on her quest momentarily. She hopped off the counter and started to make her way out of the bathroom. She abruptly turned, though, at the doorframe. "You might want to take your cake with you to the office. It really only tastes good shortly after it's made. Plus, you don't need all of the calories."

Damon's jaw dropped in mocking shock. "Excuse me?" He fought back a grin at the pleased smile on her face.

"You heard me," she shot back, pivoting on her heel. "Got to stay in shape for all the ladies you're banging," Elena called out over her shoulder as she strutted away.

Damon stood in his place, in total awe over her brazen remarks. If this was positive progress, he was more than willing to play along.

* * *

"Damon?"

Elena's voice rang out into what seemed like an empty apartment. She closed the front door behind her, flipping the switch so that it dead bolted. "Damon?"

After a few seconds and no reply, Elena cursed under her breath. _Great_. Just what she needed to add to her already crazed head: the idea of Damon out tonight fucking some other girl. _Just perfect._

Elena was about five seconds from collapsing into the ground. She was _exhausted_. Every muscle in her body ached from the amount of shit it had been put through that day. She'd gone to her last major photo shoot before press for the film officially began kicking in. And while it was _supposed_ to have been relatively quick and painless, it had become quite the opposite.

She'd been awake since 4:30 that morning and was just coming home at nearly two in the morning the next day. She wasn't exactly sure how she'd managed to stay awake for twenty-two hours straight while she'd posed, shoved herself into countless uncomfortable outfits, and made nice with important people, all the while maintaining the same ridiculous grin on her face.

On top of feeling physically awful, her psyche had also taken a beating that day. There was practically no piece of clothing on the entire set that had fit her properly. Her boobs were falling out of one dress, her ass wouldn't fit into another pair of pants… it had been _humiliating_. And although she was far from fat and it was more than likely the magazine's fault, to both the photographer and Katherine's standards she might as well have been a morbidly obese failure.

Once the shoot was over, Katherine had pulled Elena aside and given her a strict reaming. Added to the expected lecture on Elena's weight and her need to get into better shape for the press tour, Katherine had _also_ ripped into Elena for her "shitty attitude," an attitude Elena had no idea she'd even had. Katherine insisted that Elena had been acting ungrateful, whiny, and spoiled ever since she'd come back from filming.

This, of course, was the most hurtful thing Elena could possibly hear. Fuck the weight comments. Hearing that she was apparently _still_ coming off like a child after her continual efforts to do otherwise made her nearly sick. She was becoming convinced that there was literally nothing that would make her seem more grown up. And she was beginning to wonder if her chance at a friendship with Damon was already long gone.

Now that she was back in the apartment, all Elena wanted to do was sleep and escape her crazy world for a little while. But as her gaze fell on a cardboard box in the back corner of the living room, she suddenly remembered what tomorrow was.

_Tomorrow_ was move-out day.

Katherine had finally, after much teeth pulling, secured Elena an apartment twenty miles from Damon's. It was beautiful, although not Elena's style in the slightest, but she didn't have the right to be choosy. Getting an apartment in LA was a hassle, especially since Katherine was so convinced Elena was going to be exorbitantly famous within the next few months. She'd spent the past few weeks touring places, packing up her own things, and filling out constant paperwork. It was just another stressor she'd added to her schedule and as she realized she would be spending her last night in the apartment alone, her stomach turned.

She and Damon had been… amicable since their conversation in his bathroom. Nothing close to that level of candid sincerity, but enough to keep stringing her along. Deep down, she'd wanted Damon to say that he wasn't happy she was moving out, but he always seemed strangely apathetic. Neither eager to see her go nor desperate to make her stay.

She knew she was making the right decision, the _adult_ decision for both of them, but it didn't make it any less painful. This had been _their_ place. They'd come here together, both ready to start anew and fresh. They'd watched cheesy guilty pleasure TV on the couch. They'd had coffee at the dining room table on the mornings they weren't rushing out the door and told each other about their day. Other more poignant memories came to mind as well. Like the time she'd put forth her best efforts at seduction in this living room just to win an argument. Or when they'd watched the sunset off of their balcony, celebrating Damon's first win with her first taste of champagne. This place was _theirs_. And she was now convinced that by leaving, nothing would ever be _theirs_ again.

And with that, she broke. Every pent-up emotion, every pain she'd pushed down under the surface because it would be too childish of her to show came out. Every rough day on set. Every wave of loneliness. Every insecurity and fear. Every heartbreaking reminder that she'd lost her one and only best friend. It all burst out of her at once, unable to remain deep down inside. She hadn't cried since they'd fought at the beach and she finally let it out after months of keeping it in. And she cried harder as she realized she'd ruined her streak.

Elena couldn't even hold herself up, sliding down to the floor as more sobs bubbled forth. It was an ugly, painful cry, the kind where your face grows red and swollen, both your eyes and nose leak, and you're forced to take exaggerated inhales and exhales just to continue on. Her chest ached from the force of them and she could already feel her throat tightening from the exertions.

She just wanted to cry. She wanted to mourn. She wanted to feel.

Her focused, blurred gaze into the carpet was suddenly altered, though, by a shadow. Elena's sobs abruptly stopped, the instinct of fear kicking in as her gaze shot up. But the reason for the dark silhouette was not an intruder or hell-bent trespasser, but rather the main reason for her tears. He stood in front of her, his expression giving nothing away except for the parted lips. She had no clue if he was furious or disappointed, but at least, she knew exactly how _she_ felt.

"_Fuck_!" Elena cried. "Damnit." He must have been in the apartment the whole time. Maybe he'd been asleep or had headphones in when she'd called his name. It didn't matter. She'd finally cracked and, because life was so damn unfair, he was there to witness it.

"Elena, what's wrong?" His voice was groggy, indicating that it had been sleep that had prevented him from hearing her earlier calls. She only slightly noticed that he was only wearing a loose pair of pajama bottoms, but at the moment it was the least of her concerns.

"Nothing," she quickly shot back, attempting to wipe away what seemed like a never-ending and unsightly flow of snot from her nose. "I'm fine! Seriously. I'm just tired! I don't need anything." She was rambling, desperate to just get him to walk away so she could be mortified in private.

But the problem with this type of meltdown was that it was nearly impossible to stop once it started. And it was even _more_ difficult to cover it up or appear halfway normal. Elena was an absolute mess and the fact that he was towering over her, not moving an inch, made her even more distressed. She rapidly shook her head back and forth, trying to stand, but it was as if her muscles were rooting against her.

"I shouldn't be…" She trailed off, burrowing her head down into her curled up body. Maybe if she ignored him for long enough, he'd leave her alone. "I kept trying…"

She sensed Damon crouch next to her, still far away enough as to not spook her with his touch, but close enough to keep her unnerved. "Elena, I need you to talk to me." Now, she noted the concern. The genuine concern he'd always been so gracious as to provide. And that elicited another choking sob.

Her sentences were punctuated with congested breaths, cries, and sniffles. "Fuck, Damon, I shouldn't have done this! I just… I wanted to be strong. I wanted to be worth your time! I wanted… you told me to grow up and I was trying so _fucking_ hard. But I can't and you have to keep taking care of me! I couldn't do the one _fucking_ thing you asked of me! I couldn't be an adult! I can't…"

"Elena," Damon cut her off, his voice unintentionally soothing. "Hey, is that _really_ what this is about?"

Elena just whimpered in response, more humiliation sweeping over her. She felt his hot stare on her and she _hated_ it. They must have sat there like that for minutes as she hopelessly tried to stop her crying. "Damon, please just leave. _Please_."

But her pleas through gritted teeth fell on deaf ears. Suddenly, Damon's arms were wrangling her into his own, one going under her knees, the other behind her back. She fought it while still on the ground, but his strength clearly overpowered her and once she was in the air, she was simply dead weight. He carried her bridal style into the main part of the apartment. Her eyes were shut, but she sensed him pause in the middle as he realized her room was practically unlivable thanks to how much was packed away. When she felt him shift, heading in the direction of his own room, she burrowed deeper into his chest.

Doing so, however, was a mistake. Her nose firmly pressed into his skin, a gasping inhale brought in an unfamiliar scent. As Damon entered back into his room, Elena suddenly realized exactly what she smelled. _Perfume_… perfume that definitely didn't belong to her.

When Damon placed Elena onto the bed, she coiled up, maintaining the same fetal position from the hallway, screwing her eyes shut so that she didn't have to face him. She felt his weight settle into the bed directly next to her, and then the tug on her arms so that she was forced to curl against his bare chest.

The intimacy, the pure selflessness of his actions caused Elena's tears to flow stronger. Her sobs had thankfully ceased, but she was still left with the salty, hot tear tracks to silently flow down her cheeks. Crying for the first time in months was the most grating mixture of pleasure and pain. She felt so fucking pathetic having to be held… unable to do anything except emote. She'd always been a crier, even before she'd met Damon and she'd always counted it as one of her greatest weaknesses. She had memories of herself as a child, a teenager, holed up in her room so she could breakdown privately, always pulling herself together just in time for a service or dinner. Elena had kept it as a secret pride that she'd pushed it away for so long over the summer, but the added guilt accompanying this release was excruciating.

In the same vein, though, crying was a welcome liberation. She felt free to finally express herself instead of hiding behind a self-created charade. Although the pain was still present, she could feel the tension and the weight gradually fading from her body.

And she'd be a damned liar if she weren't just relieved to be held by Damon again. To allow her to be this close to him, regardless of how surely disappointed and frustrated he was with her, was a gift. She was weak and it seemed there was nothing she could do to change that. So she'd just let herself take what he was offering. Maybe it would weaken the sting of tomorrow's parting.

"I'm sorry, Elena."

Elena's head shot up immediately at his whispered words, ripped out of her private thoughts, and it probably would have been comical if she weren't such a mess. "No, no, Damon-"

He cut her off. "I'm _sorry_ I cut you out. I'm sorry you had to hide yourself from me." Elena was still shaking her head so he stopped it, grabbing her by the chin and forcing her to look at him. She simply squeezed her eyes shut in response, causing him to sigh. They were so close that Elena felt his breath fan over her face. "Elena, being an adult doesn't mean you have to be made of stone. I never meant to ask that of you."

Elena swallowed, finally blinking her eyes open only to be met with the most sincere gaze she'd ever seen in her life. "No, Damon, you were right! Everything you said at the beach… all of it was true. I'm an emotional basket case and you shouldn't have to take care of me. You deserve a friend, an equal, but I can't be that for you! I'm too fucked up. I tried all summer to be the person you deserved and I couldn't even manage to not have a breakdown."

Damon pushed some hair back from her eyes. "You're saying you haven't cried since I left?" he murmured.

Elena nodded. "I tried," she mumbled. "I tried so fucking hard."

A sad smile broke across Damon's face. "Elena, I _know_ you did. I can tell. You're different. You don't have to _prove_ anything to me."

Elena felt more tears build up in her throat and she scrunched her face in response. Damon tightened his grip on her. "Elena, I never wanted you to stop being you."

Elena simply dug into him more, the comforting feel of his forgiveness washing over her. Her exhaustion combined with the sensation of his arms around her and she felt the serotonin flow through her nerves. Her breathing slowed, matching the pace of his.

_In and out._

_In and out._

* * *

Damon blinked his eyes open, recognizing the ache in his arm first and foremost. His gaze trailed down to where it was uncomfortably bent, wedged between himself and… Elena.

As his mind caught up to the present, the memories of last night replaying like a movie, he kept his focus on her. She was lying on her back, red-rimmed eyes burning into the ceiling. She was much farther away from him than she had been when she'd fallen asleep and he could tell her emotions were just as distant. She was shutting off again. She was becoming that shell that she'd been ever since she'd come back home.

Damon had finally connected all of the dots last night when Elena had fallen apart in his arms. She'd been so unrecognizable to him since she'd returned, so disconcertingly cryptic… and it was all because of what he'd near demanded of her. He'd never guessed she'd gone to such lengths to prove to him her capabilities, but it all finally made sense.

Finally allowed so close for the first time in months, Damon realized how much he'd missed her. He'd missed her enough that he was willing to accept whatever form of her true self she was willing to offer. She'd always been honest, her emotions as easily swayed as the changing of the wind, but they now seemed more refined. He wished he had a better explanation for why her meltdown hadn't frustrated him, but maybe he hadn't lied last night. Maybe she'd changed. Maybe she'd matured enough that her needing his comfort was acceptable rather than a hassle.

Or maybe he was just fucking crazy. Maybe she hadn't become as selfless as he thought. Maybe she really was still an overgrown child, the overly emotional basket case she'd self-described. Maybe she'd bought that apartment, baked him that damn cake, rid herself of her stubborn clinging to her pride, just because she'd felt like it rather than the fact that it was the right, mature thing to do. Maybe he was just too damn caught up in all that was Elena Gilbert that he'd be willing to see her in a different light, just as long as he got to stay in her orbit.

Maybe he was just as fucked up as her.

"Elena," he murmured, still feeling dazed and half-asleep.

She turned her head, her clear gaze on him urging him to continue on.

"Don't move today."

Elena blinked, her face staying relatively unaffected by his words for a few moments before her features became marred by a frown. She returned her head to its original position shaking it back and forth. "I can't, Damon. I need to go."

"I don't want you to go."

He watched her swallow and briefly wondered if she was going to cry again. He partially hoped she would, knowing that she'd be easier to win over if she wasn't as hard-edged as she was right now.

Elena turned again to face him, this time shifting her whole body so that she was lying on her side. "How can you _possibly_ still want me here?"

Damon propped his head up on his elbow. "Because you've changed. Because I've changed… To be honest, I don't know. But _something's_ changed here and I think our friendship can work again. I _want_ our friendship to work again. But I don't want you to be here unless it's what _you_ want." He reached out, grabbing her hand, only knowing that he wanted to. "_Stay_, Elena. Something here is good. That's all I know. It might be covered by some bad, but I'd rather work through it than just let you leave and always regret it."

Elena's gaze had fallen to where their hands were awkwardly interlocked. "Us living together… it would only aggravate the problem. If we wanted to… work through it, we still could without living under the same roof."

He wasn't sure exactly when she'd turned into the person with the more stable head in this, but he wasn't willing to give up his side. "You know we'd just use it as an excuse to fall further apart. You didn't answer my question."

Although he'd never explicitly stated something in question form, she seemed to know what he meant. "Damon, of course I want to be friends with you, live here with you. But… I'm worried we're too broken-"

"_Stay_ and we'll find out. We can't know unless you agree to try. I'm saying I will. Now, just for now, I need you to go on your impulse."

Elena worried her bottom lip between her teeth. She took a few moments before responding, her gaze alternating between meeting his and watching his hand in her own. Finally, she replied. "Damon, I can't."

He sighed, feeling defeat flow through him. "Is there anything I can say to convince you that this is still right?"

Elena shook her head. "It's not that. I just…." She let out a long exhale. "Damon, I bought a cat."

Damon's lips parted slightly, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Had he heard her right? "You bought a _cat_," he repeated.

Elena nodded, some hair falling into her face as she flushed. "I, uh… wanted to prove I could take care of something besides myself so I adopted a cat a few weeks ago. I'm supposed to pick him up later today."

Damon stared at her, slack-jawed, before finally a chuckle bubbled out of his lips. "You were _that_ dead-set on proving to me that you could be an adult?!"

Elena was trying her best to hold back her own smile, but she only held it together for a few moments before giggling herself. "I don't know! He was cute and overweight. If _you'd_ looked into his damn big brown eyes, you wouldn't be laughing!"

Damon smirked after pulling himself back together, letting out a sigh as comforting relief rushed through his veins. "Well, then. I guess we now own a… _cat_."

Elena sighed, her gaze becoming more serious. "Damon, are you sure about this? This is _huge_… you know that, right?"

Damon nodded. "I'm sure, Elena... But then again, it all depends on what the cat's name is." By the ashamed look on her face, he immediately knew it was cringe-worthy.

She mumbled it, but he heard the name loud and clear. "_Mr. Flufferbutter_."

"Oh, _hell_ no!"

"Damon, we can't _change_ his name! He's had it for two years! He can't learn a new one!"

"Well, he better figure it out because there is no way in _hell_ that ridiculous term is coming out of my mouth."

And although they were arguing for what might have been the thousandth time, neither could keep the smile off of their face.

* * *

_I know you care_


	13. October 2007 to April 2008

**October 2007:**

"Hello?" Elena called into the apartment, chucking her purse and keys onto the side table by the door. She frowned when she didn't get a direct response. The lights and fan clearly indicated that the place was occupied and he had promised he would be there. "Damon?"

Elena stepped forward into the apartment and once her eyes latched on the two figures sitting on the floor in the center of the living room, she couldn't help but let a giggle slip out.

"Shh," Damon snapped, his eyes never leaving the overly fluffy creature sitting in front of him. "Actually, never mind. Keep doing that. It'll distract him."

Elena didn't even try to bite back the smile. "Are you having a staring contest with Mr. Flufferbutter?"

"Jesus Christ, this cat is good!" Damon mumbled in response, ignoring her question. "It doesn't move an inch."

Elena twisted her head, seeing that the cat was indeed unflinchingly staring at Damon. Unlike Damon, however, he didn't look incredibly uncomfortable.

"How long have you been doing this?" Elena inquired.

"Uh, I don't know. Probably like half an hour."

"Damon!"

"I gotta fucking win, Elena. This cat is a tyrant."

"You're actually holding a grudge against the cat? And you think you're going to 'win' by not blinking the longest?!"

"Your cat is Satan. You just don't know because it plays nice with you."

Elena sighed, tapping her foot exaggeratedly in Damon's direction. Yet, neither member of the pair gave her a second glance. She knew Mr. Flufferbutter wouldn't give up until he'd established his dominance and Damon was just nearly as stubborn. A smirk appeared on her face as she realized what she could do.

"Damon, I'm pregnant."

In almost the same nanosecond the words left her lips, Damon's gaze was fully fixed on hers. The shock that marred his features was ridiculously comical and Elena couldn't help but bark out a laugh. After a few more moments, the surprise left Damon's eyes as the realization of what she'd done came over him.

"Good lord," Elena smirked. "It doesn't even matter if the kid can't possibly be yours. Every straight man who's ever had sex will come or go running when they hear that phrase."

Damon growled, pushing himself up off the floor. "You're not pregnant?"

Elena's eyes bulged. "Of course not! I just didn't know what else would get you out of your little game with the cat."

Damon's head shot back to the cat. "Do you see that? He's actually smirking."

"Oh my god," Elena groaned, walking back into her bedroom, stripping off her leather jacket and chucking it on the bed. When she turned, she realized Damon had followed her in.

"I'm just saying if you wanted to end the game, you could have just let me win. I was trying to establish dominance in the house. He thinks he's the Alpha-"

Elena cut him off, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him gently. "Damon, you're a _grown_ _man_. You are automatically the Alpha. By playing those games with him, you're allowing him to think he has control." Elena smirked as she watched the realization that she was right come over him.

"I just had a staring contest with a cat for thirty minutes," Damon mumbled.

"Yes, you did," Elena replied, her tone like that of a mother speaking to a young child.

"I still think that cat is Satan."

"Well, I just appreciate you putting in the effort, no matter how terribly misguided."

They stared at each other in comfortable silence for a few minutes, a smile on both of their faces from the ridiculousness of Damon's actions when suddenly his eyes lit up with a sparkle.

"Well, all day long I've been searching my mind desperately trying to remember why today was so important and I'm still coming up blank…"

Elena smacked him on the chest, stepping back from him, but instead of allowing it, he simply yanked her back into his arms, wrapping her up in a hug. "Happy Birthday," he grinned into her ear.

Elena groaned, allowing the selfish part of herself to remain in his embrace for a few moments longer before stepping out of it and moving to her dresser to take her jewelry off.

Damon frowned. "What's wrong?"

"It would be a lot happier if it meant I could be _three_ years older every birthday rather than just one," she grumbled under her breath.

She could see Damon smirk in the reflection behind her. "Aw, is someone insecure about their age?"

Elena rolled her eyes at his patronizing tone. "No. I just feel _older_ than my age. I didn't like being eighteen. Nineteen is not much better."

"Elena, you're an actress. Being young is like a godsend. Soon you'll be my age and you'll be considered old and decrepit to all the casting agents."

"I know, I know. I'm just… tired of being written off because of how young I am."

Damon sighed, stepping closer to her to rub his hand up and down her bare arm. "I don't write you off because of your age."

Elena swallowed. _Yes, he does_. "_No_, you don't," she replied grudgingly.

"The only reason a nineteen year old wishes they were older is if they want to be twenty-one so that they can drink. But you're hot and famous enough that you don't have to worry about that. People will serve you regardless."

Elena rolled her eyes. "I'm not famous, Damon."

"_Yet_," Damon shot back. "You're not famous yet. Besides, you know me. Being my age is clearly not glamorous."

"That hot suit you're wearing indicates otherwise. Got another sexy spontaneous date tonight?"

Damon scoffed. "Um, the hot suit is all for your benefit, sweet cheeks. We're going to dinner."

Elena's eyes bulged. "Seriously? To a place nice enough to require a suit?"

"Did you actually think I was going to let you spend your birthday alone in the apartment while I went out to get some? Am I honestly that shitty of a guy to you?"

"No! I just…" Elena sighed. "Birthdays weren't a big deal back home. And for my last birthday, all you did was send me a text saying you weren't getting married anymore."

Damon grimaced, but shook it off. "Extenuating circumstances aside, I'm a damn good birthday provider. So, forget everything you know about birthdays and get ready to be spoiled." Damon started for her door. "Go get dressed in something hot... if you can."

Elena balked. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Damon smirked, that same mischievous flash in his eyes. "I'm just not sure you can deliver." Before she could spit back a retort, he was out of the room.

Elena knew what he was doing. The challenge was purposely meant to bait her into going the extra mile, but she played into it regardless. Seeing that cocky expression fall off of his face was one of her favorite activities. She practically ran to her closet knowing exactly which dress she wanted to wear.

* * *

Damon tapped his fingers impatiently against the side of his leg, leaning against the square column of the overly expensive restaurant. Elena had stayed in the car for a few extra seconds so she could fix her makeup, but he had zero idea as to why she thought she needed to.

She had _definitely_ delivered when he'd lured her into dressing as hot as possible. He had no clue when she'd managed to buy the light pink bandage dress, but he was fairly sure it was explicitly crafted to give him blue balls. It was the kind of dress you physically couldn't wear underwear with and its low v-neck cut along with its painfully short hemline had nearly made him run off the road on the drive over to the restaurant. The hot little smirk on her face from knowing she'd affected him so severely wasn't helping matters.

Typically, feeling this absurdly attracted to his roommate would be his stimulus for going out and picking someone else up, but since it was Elena's birthday, that wasn't an option. Besides, he had more pressing issues to deal with, such as the continually vibrating phone in his hand thanks to a certain blonde.

"Who are you texting?" Damon jumped slightly hearing Elena's innocent voice behind him. He put his cell back in his inner jacket pocket, simply smirking in response.

"No one. Come on, princess." He offered his arm out to her, leading her in through the restaurant doors.

_3, 2, 1._

Elena could only be confused by the darkened room for a few seconds before the screams and shouts came. The entire place was filled with people, all there to celebrate her. Elena let out a surprised half gasp at the surprise, her eyes indicating that she had absolutely no expectation of it.

Damon was forced to slip his arm out of Elena's grasp as soon as the aforementioned blonde shoved her way through the crowd towards her, crushing her in a hug. It was an honest-to-god party in only six seconds flat, music blasting from the speakers and the sounds of clinking glasses and laughter pulsing through the room.

"Do you like it?" Caroline squealed, finally pulling back from Elena.

"Yeah," Elena mumbled, eyes still wide. Caroline's face fell instantly at Elena's lackadaisical response and Elena immediately went to correct herself. "Sorry, I'm just still in complete shock. It's amazing, Caroline. Thank you."

Caroline perked up again and began to blather on about all of the amenities the party had, along with what really, _really_ famous people had shown up. Suddenly, photographers stepped up to the two women and Caroline pulled her into a dozen different poses. Damon simply stepped over towards the side, not wanting any part of it.

He squeezed through the crowd, making his way to the open bar set up on the perimeter. Flagging down the bartender, he lifted his hand and ordered a beer, leaning his weight on the counter as he scanned the restaurant.

"Now, I took you for a hard liquor kind of guy."

Damon's head whipped to the side. Unknowingly, he'd sidled up directly next to one of his least favorite people. Stefan smirked from his barstool, his apathetic stare already pissing Damon off.

Damon inhaled, knowing that starting off on this guy would only serve to make Elena upset. Besides, he didn't really have a genuine reason to dislike Stefan except for his ridiculously grating personality. "Someone's gotta drive the birthday girl home. The designated driver's taking it easy."

Stefan nodded. "I gotcha, man. Not ragging on you for it."

Damon thanked the bartender as his bottle was returned to him. "How goes the fame and the fortune?"

"Eh, it's alright. Get a break before this new press tour starts up so I'm just enjoying what LA has to offer right now."

"It's just an observation, but you don't seem too thrilled to be here."

Stefan smirk deepened. "Yeah, well, I was planning on having a much more chill night until Barbie called me up and forced me here." As if on cue, Caroline popped up next to the pair, grinning from ear to ear in pride.

"Talking about _me_? Well, isn't that flattering?"

"Damon was just saying you were looking a little chubby in that dress, wasn't he?"

Damon balked, infuriated with Stefan's lie, but Caroline didn't even flinch. "Bullshit," she shot back at Stefan. "I look _damn_ good in this dress and everyone here knows it. I've been hit on so many times that it's starting to get annoying. Thank god, Elena showed up or I would have been stuck being the hottest girl in here."

Stefan nodded. "You're absolutely right, Care." He turned his attention to Damon. "Clearly,_ I_ know what she looks like under the sweatshirts and the jeans. I just could never convince her to actually show it off for the rest of the world."

Damon simply swallowed down another gulp of his beer. He had no clue how to respond to Stefan's comments, mostly because he really just wanted to deck him across the face. "Yeah, well, let's just say I'm not looking forward to hearing _Katherine's_ commentary once she sees the pictures from tonight."

"Oh, yes, that's right. They're going for the good girl angle on her. _The unattainable virgin with the heart of gold_." Stefan paused for a moment. "It works for her, of course, unless…" Stefan's gaze focused on Damon. "You two finally got together?"

Damon coughed uncomfortably. Caroline's eyes were now also burning into him, a smirk that looked far too knowing marring her features. "Uh, no. We're just friends."

Stefan and Caroline didn't really seem to believe him, but they also didn't bother to pressure him anymore. Caroline's gaze went out to the crowd, her eyes squinting in concern.

"What's wrong, blondie?" Stefan inquired.

"I think I lost Elena," she mumbled.

Damon's eyes immediately widened and he placed his drink back down on the bar. "You think you _what_? Why did you leave her alone in the first place?"

"She was talking to some mucky-mucks over in the corner. I didn't want to kill the mood if they were going to try and talk business."

Damon was desperately fighting the urge to rip into Caroline for not watching her, but his brain was reminding him that he'd promised to let her be an adult. She'd proved she could take care of herself and he was supposed to respect that. Of course, his brain was also reminding him that the last time she'd been left alone with some producer, he'd tried to get her upstairs with him, and suddenly Damon couldn't stand still.

"I'll be right back." He could practically feel the eye rolls behind him, but he ignored them. If she was totally safe when he found her, he could just play it off as him asking her whether she wanted a drink or not. If she wasn't… well, he might end up in jail for homicide.

It took Damon only about ten minutes of searching before he realized she definitely wasn't in the main part of the restaurant. Thankfully, the light pink dresses were few and far between, but it wasn't any bit more comforting to find that out. He was now having far too many worst-case scenarios fly through his head. He'd barely been able to stop himself from pulling the car over and doing everything in his power to convince her to let him do unspeakable things to her, and he actually had viable reasons not to. Every other straight guy in here just saw a gorgeous, vulnerable girl and probably wouldn't have _nearly_ the same amount of decency as Damon did.

Damon began opening any and all doors on the outskirts of the room, almost hoping he didn't find her in one of them. Just as the realization came over him that she might just be in the restroom, he passed a door a bit more ornate than the rest that was slightly cracked. Damon took a deep breath, before pushing it open, expecting the worst.

"Damon!"

Damon let out a relieved exhale as his eyes rested on the woman he'd been searching for, completely unharmed and alone. She was sitting by herself at an empty bar in the private room, one that was typically designated for much smaller functions. In front of her was a glass tumbler of ice water and her clutch.

Elena's torso immediately straightened up as though she'd been caught doing something bad. Damon frowned, making his way to the seat next to her at the countertop. "What are you doing in here?"

"I, uh," Elena mumbled. "I was just…" Her cheeks were flushed as she blew out a breath. "I was hiding."

Damon smirked. "You do realize all of those people in there like you right?"

"I know!" Elena cried. "And they all came here for me and did this for me and it's amazing and wonderful and I should love it, right? Why don't I love it?"

Damon blinked, surprised at the sudden outburst of emotions. "Well, I'm sure it's a little overwhelming-"

"A _little_?" Elena scoffed. "There's probably three hundred people out there and I know, like, five of them. But, they all act like they know me. And people are shoving drinks in my face and all trying to talk to me and who the hell hired those photographers because they are actually the most frustrating…"

Elena suddenly trailed off, her eyes widening in realization as her cheeks flushed brighter. "…and that's exactly what my future might be like."

Damon smirked. "Yeah, I think you might want to get used to that, little Miss Actress Extraordinaire. _That's_ what being famous is all about. This is just a preview."

An embarrassed smile formed on Elena's lips. "God, I'm such an idiot. I can't believe I didn't realize it sooner."

"Like you said, it was a surprise. You weren't prepared. But once you get back out there, I'm sure you'll be fine." Elena smiled, but Damon immediately noticed the discomfort in her eyes. "Or… you could _not_ go back in there. Hide in here until everyone leaves."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry. I just have to get my mindset in the right place. I know you worked hard on this…"

Damon scoffed. "_Please_. The only role I had in this was getting you here. This was _all_ Caroline."

Elena's eyes widened. "Wait, are you serious?"

Damon nodded, his eyes wandering over all of the vintage bottles of alcohol. "Yeah. I'm too lame to come up with something so _fabulous_," he replied in a mocking tone. "I was just planning on taking you to dinner and maybe some frozen yogurt if you played nice."

Elena was eerily silent next to him, causing him to shift his gaze back to her. Her expression was near impish. "No way," he replied, immediately able to understand what she was hinting at. "Caroline will rip me in half. I barely know the girl, but she would probably chop my dick off if you skipped out."

Elena gave an exaggerated pout. "_Please_! It's all I want for my birthday!"

Damon felt his resolve weaken at her words, but he tried to fight against it. "You haven't even been here for half an hour. Just give it some time. You'll have fun and you'll make everybody happy."

Elena frowned and it caused a bolt of pride to shoot through Damon. He knew she'd been convinced that he'd fall for the puppy dog eyes. But his contentment was short-lived as he noticed the mischievous spark that replaced them.

Elena slowly leaned forward, the cleavage that was already blatantly on display becoming even more prominent thanks to the sharp angle. One of her manicured hands reached out and fell on Damon's knee. He knew her hands weren't _actually_ searing hot, but the lust-filled eyes she'd trained on him made it feel like he would get second-degree burns from her touch. "But I really, _really_ like frozen yogurt."

Damon tried to maintain her gaze calmly even though his caveman instincts were screaming at him. He had no clue how such an innocent topic could make him half-hard. "Really?" He scoffed, although it sounded more like a choke to him. "_That's_ your line? _You really, really like frozen yogurt_?"

Elena's gaze didn't falter, but she simply shrugged in response as though her next sentence wouldn't pack the punch that it did. "Just letting you know that I would do a lot of things for frozen yogurt. In fact, if you get me out of this party, my limits drop down to almost _nothing_."

Every one of her words dripped with sex and sent a lightning bolt of desire to shoot to his groin. Damon suddenly realized Elena had learned that being an adult meant she couldn't pout her way into getting what she wanted. But it sure as hell meant she could seduce him into it.

He knew she wasn't actually planning on doing anything with him, but any ounce of resolve Damon had left immediately melted at her hot stare. "_Fine_," he growled. "But if Caroline or Katherine or anyone else comes looking for me, I'm siccing them on you."

Elena was instantly back into her overly excited schoolgirl phase, bouncing slightly in her seat as she clapped her hands. They both hopped off of the barstools as Damon eyes the private exit on the side of the room.

Elena, too enthusiastic about her upcoming cheap dessert, accidentally dropped her clutch as she was grabbing for it, causing it to fall on the floor underneath the bar. Without thinking, Elena pivoted, bending over to grab the dropped bag from the ground. Although the movement itself was meant to be harmless, Damon and Elena were still wedged between the barstools and her ass ended up practically grinding against Damon's groin.

Each inhaled sharply at Elena's mistake. Elena had tensed immediately, the brush of their lower halves having indicated just how much Damon had appreciated her earlier manipulation. Damon, on the other hand, had about six thousand different variations of swear words running through his mind along with fifteen different ways he could have her on this damn bar.

Elena stayed in her position and Damon wasn't sure if it was because she enjoyed the proximity or because she was too scared to meet his gaze. She was still sinfully close to him. Damon could see nearly every thread of fabric in the seams of the dress and his height left him in the perfect position of seeing straight down past her exposed clavicle while also providing him with the alluring aroma of her grapefruit scented shampoo.

Damon only noticed his hands move upward after they were already a few inches away from her shoulders. His thoughts were running a mile a minute, too many conflicting questions giving him pause. _Why hadn't she just moved yet? What the hell is she thinking right now? Is she terrified? Does she want this? And what the fuck is this anyways? She accidentally bumps into my groin and I literally can't function beyond thinking about a million different ways to get us off? When the hell did it become this bad?_

The final question was what shook him. When _did_ it become this unbearable? Damon felt like he was going to explode and it was only getting worse the longer she stayed frozen. His attraction to Elena had always been manageable, easily written off beyond the few times they'd fucked up. And he'd assumed it would only get better when he opened himself up to countless other sexual encounters. But instead, he was just as turned on as he had been when Elena had come in his lap and they'd barely even touched.

And that was when Damon realized he needed to pull away. His vision became far more clear, the lust that had clouded his mind fading away. He knew an awkward shifting of their positions wouldn't erase the incident, so he needed to come up with something more clever. Without a good idea, they wouldn't be able to continue their evening in the perfectly innocent fashion they needed to.

Damon masked his sigh of relief as he figured out how to diffuse the tension in the air in a matter of seconds. He didn't bother hiding the smile that formed on his lips as he moved to push Elena's curled locks over to her left shoulder. The slight shiver Elena provided at her shifting hair almost made Damon change his mind, but his resolve was thankfully stronger than his dick.

Damon leaned in, making sure his hot breath hit her ear enough to make her squirm before he began to whisper, his words falling from his lips in the most exaggerated husky tone he could manage.

"Remind me to promise you frozen yogurt more often."

Elena immediately ripped herself from her position, easily removing herself from Damon's reach and into the main part of the room. Her eyes were wide as she examined him, trying to figure out exactly what he'd meant. Damon simply smirked back at her, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to be the epitome of nonchalance. He knew that joking and humor were their safe territories. As long as he could convince her that the sexual overtones of that moment were funny rather than life changing, he might just be able to convince himself.

Elena still looked fairly stunned so Damon attempted to placate her again. "I mean, you said you had limits but _damn_ girl, that was pretty intense. Keep it in your pants."

Elena immediately flushed and Damon was grateful for the smile she was fighting. "Damon," she whined.

In relief, Damon continued his charade, raising his hands up in the air in surrender. "We really got to get into a space where I'll have witnesses. Just because you're horny and we're all alone doesn't mean you can just throw yourself at me!"

Elena lost the fight against her emotions, a beautiful smile breaking across her lips as she let out a giggle. "God, you _suck_, Damon."

Damon spun around on his heel, heading towards the door that led back into the restaurant. "Hold on. Before we go, I need to get Caroline to hose you down or something-"

A pealing laugh came from behind him as Elena ran for him, yanking him back by the arm with her modest amount of strength. "Don't you dare!" she cried, still laughing at his antics.

Damon allowed her to pull him back, turning around to face her as he chuckled. Their matching smiles were beaming and the energy of the pair was far more childlike than its previous sexualized edge.

Elena shook her head back and forth, her grin softening. "Fuck you," she mumbled playfully.

Damon noticed something in her eyes at her teasing remark, something that looked similar to relief or gratitude. He briefly wondered if it was meant for him, if her gaze was meant as a silent "thank you" for not letting her do something that would only screw them over in the long run. And he wasn't quite sure how to feel about that.

So he returned to what was most comfortable, the safety zone of their relationship so the conflicting emotions could be pushed away. He mockingly gasped, stepping back from her in exaggerated horror. "Did you just say you want to fuck me?! Elena Gilbert, control yourself!"

"Oh my god!" Elena groaned, yanking Damon again by the arm as he followed her out of the room and out of their near brush with reality.

* * *

**December 2007:**

"Shit," Elena mumbled under her breath, lifting her singed thumb to her mouth, sucking on the burn and hoping that her saliva would somehow have healing powers. After shaking her hand out, she readjusted the thick kitchen towel in her hands and grabbed for the full cookie tray again, pulling them out from the oven as fast as she could and dropping the tray on the stovetop.

Elena grinned in pride at her creation, thrilled that she'd discovered a new talent over the holiday season. While she'd failed miserably at decorating the apartment, selecting their tree, and choosing presents, baking had developed into a newfound skill set and she was incredibly eager to share her latest treats with Damon.

Damon still had no desire to go back to his family and Elena was definitely not planning on visiting home any time soon, leaving the pair with only each other to ring in the holidays with. Alaric had come over for a dinner a few days earlier before he'd headed back to his parents' house in the mountains and Elena had already exchanged her mediocre attempts at gift giving with Stefan, Caroline and Katherine. Now, it was just she and Damon for the next week and a half and it made her slightly nauseated just thinking about it.

She lifted her wrist to check the time on her brand new and overly expensive watch, courtesy of Katherine. Damon was running noticeably late now, indicating that whatever last minute details he'd had to finish up at work were much larger than he'd made them out to be. Elena sighed, deciding to spend the extra time plating the cookies. She wondered if she now understood how a fifties housewife felt when her husband was late. Spending hours preparing food for him, going on without a purpose beyond that of caring for her man. Elena flushed as the idea of being married to Damon tried to root itself deeply into her brain. _Stop being such a girl about this. You're never going to actually marry Damon. Take a beat._

After another hour or so, Elena had settled herself on the couch with one of the many Christmas movies playing on TV when Damon noisily entered the apartment. Elena shot up, mentally cursing herself for looking so eager, especially when she noticed how disappointed he seemed.

"Hey," she smiled, deciding to maintain her positive attitude from earlier. "Congratulations! You're on vacation."

The way Damon glared at her, she might as well have been covered in vomit. Her muscles tensed immediately at his hateful expression, instantly backtracking in an attempt to determine what she might have done wrong.

But before Elena could ask any questions, Damon let out a loud and bitter scoff. "_Actually_, I don't have a vacation anymore."

Elena's eyes bulged. "What do you mean you don't have a vacation?!"

Elena's question only served to anger him further. "It _means_, Elena," he snapped back, enunciating the words like she was a small child. "that either I keep going back to work or I don't have a job anymore. Sorry if that ruins the perfect little Christmas you had in mind."

Elena flushed slightly, but simply shook her head as Damon chucked his keys onto the counter. She crossed towards him, but stayed a few steps away. "Damon, this isn't about me. Why did they take away your vacation time? Isn't that, like, illegal?"

Another scoff fell from Damon's lips. "No, because I have an actual real-person job. If something isn't finished, we can't just delegate it to an assistant or someone below us while we get our hair and makeup done."

Elena flinched at his cruelty. There was a difference between taking out work frustration and outright insulting her. "Okay, I'm sorry for whatever happened at work, but it's not _my_ fault. There's no reason to be mean to me."

Damon just rolled his eyes, walking briskly past her and into his bedroom. "Whatever, I don't need this."

Elena's jaw dropped. Rushing after him, she pushed into his room just before he could slam the door in his face. "I'm sorry. What exactly do you not _need_? Someone calling you out on your shit?"

"No!" Damon cried, dropping his briefcase next to his bed before dropping down onto it. "I don't need you guilt-tripping me and trying to make me feel like a shitty person!"

"Well, newsflash, Damon!" Elena flung her hands up in the air. "When you're being a shitty person, I'm gonna let you know it. Same as you would do for me. And right now, you're being the _shittiest_. I'm _sorry_ you can't have your vacation for whatever mysterious reason you're so against informing me of. I'm _sorry_ you don't get a break because you've earned it after working so damn hard. But most of all, I'm sorry something so _terrible_ happened to you today that you felt entitled to rip into me once you got home."

Elena was breathing heavily at this point from the exertion of the argument, standing with arms crossed as she stared at him. Damon was seated on the edge of the bed, elbows bent on his knees with his face resting in the palms of his hands. She was furious, waiting for him to shoot some nasty remark back, but nothing came.

"Damon-"

"Just leave," he cut her off, his voice monotone. "Just _go_, Elena."

Although to most others his voice would come off as emotionless or apathetic, Elena immediately picked up on the distress interlaced between his words. And although she was still raring for a fight, she felt herself soften. "Why won't you talk to me, Damon?"

That pulled Damon's head up quickly. "Because I'm really tired of having people being pissed off at me," he snapped, his gaze stony.

Elena exhaled at the determination in his stare. "Well, too late," she mumbled, before spinning on her heel and slamming the door closed behind her.

* * *

Damon stomach churned as he clicked submit on yet another fifty page form. Not because he was worried it wouldn't go through, but because he could see the countless other stacks next to his computer he still had left to go. Filling out all of this ridiculous paperwork was the _last_ way he wanted to spend his Christmas Eve, but apparently that was just the cruel way his life was going to work out.

His boss was down the hall in his own office, doing his own share of the workload. They were the only two people left in the whole building thanks to the holiday and he knew neither was happy to be there. They were stuck working on this case for days and barely had a chance to eat or sleep if they wanted to get it done.

Damon knew he wouldn't feel quite as bad about the whole situation if it hadn't been for Elena. He swore he'd never fucked up as much in his entire life than in that one argument. His anger had exponentially increased as he'd driven home from work that evening and by the time he got to their apartment, Elena's smiling face was apparently enough to set him off. It was as if he physically couldn't stop until she was just as unhappy as he was. He'd known how upset she'd be with him for having to spend the holidays at work, but something inside of him decided he'd rather just shut her out completely. Especially once she found out the real reason he was still there.

But, of course, Elena couldn't just ignore him and let him be miserable like any normal person would. No, she had to be so damn _decent_ to his sorry ass. When he'd opened his bedroom door in the middle of the night to go into his bathroom that same evening, he'd almost stepped on the small plate left outside his room. On it was one of Elena's creations: a cookie loaded with various sweet ingredients. Every day since then, no matter how early he'd gotten up to go back to the office, there was a bag sitting on the kitchen counter, filled with lunch and dinner, along with a new single serving of dessert.

Damon ran his hands down over his face before grabbing the paper bag. It was already pretty late in the evening, so he'd eaten both meals, but he hadn't yet seen what she'd done for the last course. He pulled out a small plastic container and set it on his desk, taking a breath before he reached out and removed the lid.

Sitting inside was a chocolate cupcake, the top decorated with white frosting and some candy pieces so that it looked like Santa Claus. And somehow, seeing that cupcake switched something in Damon. He was reminded of the girl who was sitting all alone in her apartment, spending her Christmas by herself simply because the only person that really cared about her was too much of a cowardly dick to do the right thing by her.

Just like that, Damon knew what he had to do.

Grabbing his briefcase and keys, Damon left behind the trash, the documents, and the laptop before rushing out of his office and down the hall to his boss. The second Damon showed his face in the door, his fellow lawyer gave him a look that could kill, but he shook it off, determined to get the words out.

"Sir, I can't be here anymore. I'm going home."

His boss' eyebrows quirked. "I beg your pardon?"

Damon swallowed, losing some of his steam. It was if he'd just suggested they go skinny dipping together. "I'm going home," he reiterated. "I understand that I have a job to do and I understand why I _should_ be here, but I made a huge mistake when I chose to be here today. And I need to fix that."

Mr. Idler took off his glasses, simply staring at Damon as though he'd lost his mind. Part of him just wanted to laugh, insist it was all just a big joke, and slink back to his office, but that damn cupcake floated back into his mind and he continued. "My work and what I do is very important to me. But for the first time in my life, I chose a job over someone I care about… _deeply_." Damon mentally reassured himself that he'd only added the "deeply" to make his skeptical boss understand, but it didn't feel that wrong to say. "And if I have to keep hurting her just to keep my job, then this job is not worth it."

Damon exhaled. "Mr. Idler, I am leaving to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day as it should be spent. But I will be back at five in the morning on the twenty-sixth, ready to work my _ass_ off for you and rectify the situation. If you don't want me to come back, I'll expect a notice of termination before then, but if not, sir, I will see you bright and early on the twenty-sixth. Good evening and Merry Christmas."

* * *

Elena blinked sleepily, the television screen and the fireplace growing blurry under her gaze. She'd spent the evening eating too many cookies and watching the lights twinkle across their view of the city, a Christmas movie or music always playing in the background. She'd wanted to stay up later, but she realized there wasn't much to stay up for. No opening presents under the tree early in the morning, no hot waffles covered in syrup to gorge on until you felt like you might throw up. That part of Christmas wouldn't happen for her this year. She thought that realization might sting a little more, but instead, it simply caused her to snuggle into the couch more deeply as the lull of the Christmas carol on the TV sung her to sleep.

The next thing Elena remembered was Damon kneeling in front of her.

Elena blinked a few times, a small smile forming on her face. "Hey, Damon."

Instead of being met with the typical huge grin, he instead frowned deeply, his gaze imploring. "Elena, I fucked up. I'm so sorry. I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm asking for it."

Elena crinkled her eyebrows, frowning at his distress. "That's not how you usually start this," she mumbled.

Damon's lips parted. Clearly, he was just as confused as she was. "What do you mean?"

Elena sighed, stretching slightly. "When you propose to me. You're usually a lot happier."

"I'm not…" Damon frowned again. "I'm not proposing to you."

"Oh. Well, I guess this is a different dream then."

Damon blinked, staring at her in befuddlement for a few moments. "Elena, this isn't a…" He trailed off as something akin to realization came over him. "You've had this dream before?"

Elena nodded, the comfort of the couch luring her back into her fatigue. "Well, you said this wasn't a proposal dream, but you're on your knees so I thought it was. I have that one a lot."

Damon began to speak again, but cut himself off, shaking his head instead. "Elena, this isn't a dream."

Elena smirked. "That's what you always say."

Damon sighed. He went to grab for her hand, rubbing small circles on it with his thumb. "Elena, do you remember why you're mad at me?"

Elena nodded again. "Our fight about you having to be at work."

Damon nodded back at her. "Well, I need to apologize for that. Because I fucked up really bad and I regret it more than anything. But I'm going to wait until you wake up in the morning so that you can hear it for real. Okay?"

"Okay." Elena paused, closing her eyes. "I forgive you, though."

Damon let out an exhale. "We'll see how you feel in the morning. Now, let's get you to bed."

Elena just reached her arms out, using all of her strength to do so, before letting them fall back down gracelessly on her side. Moments later, she felt Damon's warm embrace lift her up and carry her into her room. She felt the dream ending as more restful sleep neared, the comforter being tucked around her body.

"Goodnight, dream Damon," she mumbled, sensing him walk away.

She heard a sigh before his fingers lightly ran along her bare arm. "Elena, this isn't a dream."

"You always say that," she repeated. "If they weren't dreams, I would have woken up with an engagement ring on my finger by now."

Damon didn't respond for a moment, but his fingers halted their journey. His voice was thicker when he finally spoke. "You say yes?"

Elena snuggled into her pillow, the last words falling from her lips the only thing she recalled until morning.

"Every single time."

* * *

Elena was awoken by one thing and one thing only: the smell of hot, fluffy carbs.

Shooting up like a bullet from her bed, she raced out into the main part of the apartment, her gaze falling towards the man in her kitchen with the worst yet sexiest bedhead she'd ever seen, lifting the lid on their waffle maker just as she slid in.

"Merry Christmas, Elena," he smiled. "I was wondering when you were going to wake up."

Elena didn't respond, simply allowing her eyes to glaze over the apartment, her jaw dropped. Instrumental Christmas music was playing from the speakers, the fireplace burning fresh. Somehow the lights on the tree and the decorations in the living room seemed twenty times more wonderful than they had all season and Elena had a feeling she knew why.

"You're not at work," she murmured, still stunned as she watched him take two plates over to the coffee table.

"No, I am not," he replied with a sigh. He set their breakfast down on the table before crossing back to her, a sad smile adorning his features. "I realized far too late that spending this day with you was more important than any bullshit case."

Damon took a deep breath before continuing. "I made a _huge_ mistake at work. It was probably the dumbest oversight ever and even _you_ would have been able to spot it. But I didn't. I have never done something that idiotic in my life and not only did I force myself and my boss to spend our vacation redoing nearly five hundred documents, but I probably got myself fired. So when I got home that night… I hated _myself_ too much to be a decent person to you. That's not an excuse for my behavior, though, and I don't deserve your friendship after the way I acted, but I'm swearing to you that I will never do something that heinous again."

Elena nodded her head, a small smile forming on her face. "It's okay. I forgive you. I'm just happy you're here." Elena stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him as he did the same, letting herself soak in his embrace. "Merry Christmas, Damon."

Damon smiled into her hair, his grip tightening on her. "Merry Christmas, Elena."

Suddenly, the sharp growl of Elena's stomach cut off their moment, eliciting laughs from both of them. "Clearly, somebody wants her waffles," Damon chuckled.

"More than you know," she groaned as she stepped back.

Elena plopped down in front of the coffee table as Damon went back into the kitchen to pour two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Once he was seated next to her, Elena barely allowed him to get comfortable before digging in with her fork.

But the moment Elena placed the syrup-drenched piece into her mouth, her stomach sank as a sudden wave of memories came over her.

Damon frowned as he noticed her forlorn expression. "Well, shit. I thought my waffles were pretty damn good."

Elena's mouth suddenly felt incredibly dry despite the presence of the sticky syrup. She swallowed. "No," she mumbled weakly, her face flushing red. "The waffles are perfect. It's just... I sorta kinda just remembered last night."

The knowing smile on Damon's face as he turned his attention to his food instantly confirmed her fears. Her "dream" of Damon had been just the opposite and as it played again across her mind, she remembered her sleepy confession, the one where she always said yes.

Elena was at a loss for words, humiliation over her stupid little secret being exposed rushing through her veins. But before she could offer some half-assed excuse, Damon cut her off.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm fucking _amazing_ at proposing. _No_ woman is immune to me when I get down on one knee. In fact, I have a 100% success rate."

"Oh my god," Elena groaned, each unable to hold back their smiles at his joke. The tension from earlier disappeared within seconds as the jovial Christmas spirit filled the room once again.

But as Elena went back to her waffles and Damon to his coffee, she began to wonder if, one day, they'd face a moment too genuine to laugh their way out of.

* * *

**April 2008:**

"Damon, come dance with me."

Damon looked up from his concentrated effort of chopping up vegetables to stare at his roommate. She was spinning around in circles by herself, her arms and legs twirling to music only she knew the choreography to. Damon had turned on his iPod earlier that evening just so the apartment could have some background music while he made some soup for himself to freeze later, but Elena had apparently decided to use it for cardio.

"No," Damon chuckled, unable to keep his eyes off of her as she stumbled around by herself. The song was a slow one, so her motions weren't frantic or rushed, but it was still quite clear that she wasn't trained.

"But, Damon, tomorrow is my special day and I want you to dance with me."

The next day was, in fact, probably the biggest day of Elena's life so far: the LA movie premiere. April had come so fast that Damon's head was still spinning. His boss, amazingly enough, had respected Damon more for standing up to him, and even mentioned how lucky he would be if he could have Damon as a partner someday. Of course, this praise didn't come without the added work, but Damon always made sure that he still got to see Elena enough to keep her happy.

His dabbling with other women had decreased in response to the increased workload and the increased time with Elena, but it hadn't bothered him nearly as much as he'd expected. The day after tomorrow, Elena would be flying to the other side of the country, and then overseas, beginning a six-week long press tour for the film. Without Elena around, his schedule would open up significantly and he could do whatever or whoever the hell he wanted in his spare time.

Tonight was really their last night together before she left. The next day would be filled with preparations for the red carpet and Damon was sure he wouldn't see Elena ever again once her hair and makeup team got ahold of her. Although he would be attending the premiere as well, he probably wouldn't even get the chance to hug her goodbye given that she was being swept away by Katherine the second it was over to a hotel so that they could all leave first thing in the morning.

"Don't make me whine, Damon," Elena called out over the music. "I'm not cute when I whine."

_Yes, you are. _Damon let out a groan. "_Only_ because tomorrow's your special day," he finally acquiesced, coming out from the kitchen and heading over to meet Elena in her position. He grabbed her outstretched hand, pulling her into him just a little bit too hard to elicit one of his new favorite sounds: her giggle.

Damon stared at her as stepped back and forth, merely holding her hand and twisting her arm when she wanted to spin. He was mesmerized by her utter happiness. He'd never seen her look so free. "Did you sneak into the liquor cabinet when I wasn't looking?"

Elena shook her head, slowing her movements down significantly as she stepped into him and placed the pair into a more proper dancing position. "Nope. I'm just really, really happy right now." Her right hand entangled with his left and she lifted it up, her other hand falling to his waist.

Damon smirked as they began stepping in sync, John Mayer belting out the chorus of "Gravity" in the background, a realization slowly forming in his mind. "Ahh, I know what this is."

Elena cocked her head. "What is what?"

"_This_ is pre-princess bliss. You've never gotten to experience it before so your brain's making up for that by turning you all goofy."

Elena made an expression of mock offense. "I am not being _goofy_. But in the interest of science, please explain this 'pre-princess bliss' to me."

Damon sighed, allowing her to twirl out before pulling her back in. "Pre-princess bliss is the excitement all women get when they get to wear a pretty dress and have their makeup and hair all done up and then they get to have people fawn all over them for it. I'm assuming Jesusville didn't have a prom?"

Elena scoffed. "God no. That would have required me to be within twenty feet of the opposite gender."

"Aww," Damon pouted. "Poor girl never got to be a princess for her prom. You were _so_ deprived."

Elena rolled her eyes. "You know, out of all of the things I wish I hadn't missed out on, _prom_ was not one of them."

"No way," Damon shook his head. "Every girl wants her princess moment. I don't believe it."

"Like you said, I'll get my princess moment tomorrow. I never dreamed about that sort of thing as a kid."

Damon stared at her, the doubt still at the forefront of his mind. After a few moments, he chuckled. "_Liar_. It's the wedding."

Elena blinked. "The wedding?" she repeated.

Damon nodded, happy he'd finally solved the riddle. "You dream about the big fairytale wedding. The long white dress, all of the flowers, all of the romance. I bet you even want it to happen in a castle."

Elena blushed and her gaze immediately fell to their feet. "No," she mumbled, her words barely coherent. "I don't want that _now_."

"Yes!" Damon hissed, overly thrilled at finding out her girly little secret. Imagining a little version of Elena dreaming about some luxurious romantic wedding ceremony was far too darn cute.

"Fine, okay! I did. But that was when I was a little kid. Now…" Elena trailed off, her eyes wandering.

"Now what? Civil ceremony in a courthouse with a homeless guy as your witness?"

"No," Elena chuckled. "I just think the ceremony doesn't really matter, you know? If you're marrying the right person, it's 'magical' regardless."

Damon nodded, her words causing a slight tightening in his chest. It was hard to imagine Elena being someone's wife. And not because he didn't think she was capable of it or because he didn't think it would ever happen. He tried to picture her with some other guy, a guy she'd fall in love with and want to spend the rest of her life with, and his brain seemingly wouldn't allow it. As he tried to picture her doing activities he normally associated with a married couple, this other imagined guy never stayed in the image. He always faded away, quickly replaced by… by him.

_Understandable, _Damon placated himself. They lived together. They were constantly doing stuff like watching TV on the couch together, washing the dishes, or going grocery shopping. Hell, they'd even slept in the same bed together. He'd never seen Elena do anything even _close_ to that with another guy. The only other man she was even friends with was Stefan and there was no way in hell Damon wanted that image planted in his brain.

It still didn't make the idea any less odd. One day, Elena was going to meet some guy and fall for him. She'd go on dates and experience her first relationship. She would move in with him, do _everything_ with him. And Damon would just be her friend. Sure, her friend she'd made out with, shown her darkest sides to… but just her friend nonetheless.

He could practically see Elena thinking the same thing in front of him, her eyebrows only slightly furrowed in concentration, the smile fallen off of her face. Maybe it was easier for her to picture. Maybe she already had someone in mind. Maybe it was-

His falling domino line of thinking was cut off as the song changed, and Elvis' voice began to croon over the speakers.

_Wise men say only fools rush in_

_But I can't help falling in love with you_

"Sorry," Damon muttered, reaching towards the iPod speakers. "I think my dad accidentally downloaded some old songs on here."

Elena grabbed for his hand, placing it back into her grasp. "It's fine. I love this song."

Damon pulled back with reluctance. "Really? I'm surprised you know it."

_Shall I stay_

_would it be a sin_

_If I can't help falling in love with you_

Elena nodded, their steps slowing to match the beat. "There was only one store in my entire hometown that played something other than gospel music. He was allowed to play oldies as long as there wasn't any direct mention of anything 'bad.'" A nostalgic smile crept across her face. "I used to love spending _hours_ in there, just listening to the music. Worst thing was, it was a hardware store. I was this seven year old girl, standing in aisles full of nails and car oil, just singing along."

Damon smiled, happy his brain could be filled with the image of little Elena again instead of creeping down its now familiar path of spiraling.

_Like a river flows surely to the sea_

_Darling so it goes_

_Some things are meant to be_

They swayed in silence for a few more lines before Elena finally spoke, her voice much smaller than before. "Everything's gonna change tomorrow," she whispered.

"Are you scared?" Damon asked, his voice lowering to match her own.

"No. I'm just… _aware_."

Damon was now _aware_ of a few more things, as well. Like that he could feel her breath fanning gently across his face, the slight scrape of the fabrics of their shirts skimming past each other. He was aware of the words being sung and the twisting of his stomach as he tried to ignore them. He was also aware that Elena was no longer meeting his gaze, her eyes focused lower on his face, deadlocked with his lips.

"Change can be good," he whispered. His throat was so dry that he was concerned she wouldn't understand him.

"Yeah," she mumbled. Damon tightened his grip involuntarily on her waist. Her voice was just too damn low and her breath was too damn shallow. All he could tell was that he was losing control of something, but he had no clue just what that something was.

Damon wasn't sure which one of them was leaning in so damn much, but they were now separated by only an inch. They'd stopped dancing although the music played on, and Damon's veins were now pulsing with energy waiting to be released. He wasn't sure what was about to happen, but whatever it was would be the exact _opposite_ of slow and sweet.

"It can be." The words were hoarse falling from Elena's lips and Damon could now feel the mental countdown clock ticking to just seconds. He swallowed, ready to give in, ready to embrace whatever surrender felt like.

_Take my hand, take my whole life too_

_For I can't help falling in love with you_

But instead, instinct kicked in like a bitch.

"Or it can be bad."

The words were out of Damon's mouth before he could stop them and once they were, the hum of the room's energy turned staccato. Damon stepped back, the movement feeling like the snap of a rubber band. And as his clearer gaze focused in on the woman in front of him, he was able to take in just how far gone she had been, how close they had come to a something. And that's when it all came rushing back in.

He was only able to look at her for a few moments before spinning around as rules and responsibilities and reality flooded into his mind.

_You can't do that with Elena. You can't feel that for Elena. You can't be that person for Elena._

_Because she's Elena, that's why._

Damon took in a deep breath, hearing those five words repeat over and over again in his mind, but the pulsing energy from before wasn't slowing down like it normally did. Whenever he had wanted Elena before, whenever he felt something stronger than friendship, the mantras helped. They were reminders of why he stayed in control, why he didn't do anything too risky. Crossing that line with Elena had only led to problems in their relationship. And after remembering that, he could fall back into normalcy.

But this time, he was stuck. The words sounded hollow and fell flat against his desire for her. Instead of picturing the times he'd fucked it up before, he could only imagine what could have just happened if he hadn't pulled away. Where would his hands be now? Where would her shirt? Would they still even be in the living room?

The mantras weren't working. The unspoken rules that had been set were meaningless. All the guidelines couldn't stand up against what he wanted. And it took him only a few seconds to figure out why.

_Like a river flows surely to the sea_

_Darling so it goes_

_Some things are meant to be_

Because they were all shit.

They didn't mean anything. There wasn't any reasoning as to why they weren't together. They just… _weren't_.

They were both single. They were both attracted to each other. On top of all that, they genuinely liked the other, for the good and the bad.

All of the rules, all of the reasons were set without foundation. They only kept things under control. They made their world feel easier. But now whatever Damon felt was too powerful, too consuming to be held back by walls paper-thin in their rationality.

Nothing was stopping them from being together. Nothing was stopping Damon from turning around and pulling her into his arms and kissing her until she couldn't stand up on her own.

But as Damon spun around on his heel, ready to see just where this limitless possibility could take him, he was met with an empty room.

_Take my hand, take my whole life too_

_For I can't help falling in love with you_

Nothing could stop him… except for that.

_For I can't help falling in love with you_


	14. April 2008, Part Two

**Hello :) Did you miss me? And by me, I mean these lovely little notes in bold that used to adorn most chapters. Well, they're back... at least for this chapter. This will be short, though, I promise.**

**1) I am not deleting or stopping this story. I let my insecurities get the best of me a few chapters ago and it came out all wrong. I know some people are angry with me for the things I said, and for that, I apologize. You should know that I love and value you all more than anything and hope that you'll stick around with me. I promise I'm devoted to this story. I hope you all are, too :)**

**2) If you guys live blog your reading of a chapter (which so many of you all do so THANK YOU), please let me know! I love reading them and they make the writing experience a million times more rewarding. Just like reviews :)**

**3) Please keep leaving your reviews! I've said it a million times, but your reviews are the life-source for this story. I read each and every single one and love having that bond with you where I recognize your username or account and get all giddy over it. My readers are like a little family to me and I adore that interaction.**

_Not really sure how to feel about it_

_Something in the way you move_

_Makes me feel like I can't live without you_

_It takes me all the way_

_I want you to stay_

******April 2008, Part Two:**

The problem with opening oneself up to a feeling or an idea as intense as what Damon had encountered the previous night is that it quickly becomes the only thing one can dwell upon.

When Damon had woken up that morning, he'd wanted Elena lying next to him. When he'd made coffee for himself, his hand almost immediately went for a second mug, even after multiple signs indicated that Elena wasn't there. And, now, as he fixed his tie, atypically desperate to get it perfectly straight, he wished she could be there to tell him he looked fine and that he should stop being so paranoid, her warm hands rubbing imaginary lines down his shirt sleeves.

But of course, Elena _wasn't_ there to comfort him. While Damon was still asleep, she'd made her way over to the hotel suite Katherine had rented to get ready in. Today was all about Elena. There was no time for the two of them as a pair, regardless of what had occurred last night, and there wouldn't be any time for almost two months. He'd be "with" Elena all day, but only as friendly support, a pillar of grounded strength while she was swept away by all of the glamour and fame.

Damon finally gave up on the tie, realizing he'd never be satisfied with its positioning regardless of how much he tugged. Although he appreciated suits, he'd always felt strangely wrong in one. Especially one as expensive and upper-tier as the one Katherine had wrangled him. Maybe it was the small-town kid still embedded deep inside his heart, but he had a sinking suspicion that the more Elena was thrust into this elitist world, the less he'd seemingly fit in.

Damon's wandering mind led him to drifting across the apartment and into Elena's room. Pushing the already cracked door open, he found her bedroom nearly spotless. To the average set of eyes, you wouldn't know its occupant had left for a weeks-long vacation. But Damon could easily pick up on the telltale indicators. First and foremost, the very fact that it was _clean_ was enough to indicate its vacancy. He hadn't seen it this neat since they'd moved in.

As Damon's eyes scanned the room, he latched on to another peculiarly empty space: a small cleared area on her dresser. As his brain identified exactly what typically rested there, he couldn't fight the smile that bloomed across his face. For some reason, Elena had decided she wanted to bring along _that_ picture, the more polite, posed version of their tired smiles at the diner from their very first night in the city. Realizing this caused Damon to swallow, his exhale coming out slightly shaky. Little things like this now made him virtually nonfunctional under their miniscule weight. They would mean nearly nothing to so many others, but to him, it meant everything.

Damon was shaken out of his reverie by the feeling of thick fur twisting around his ankle, the accompanying meow ripping his gaze downwards.

"Hey, ya little rascal," he grumbled, leaning down to stroke its back. Mr. Flufferbutter immediately shot away, backing into the bed in his attempts to get away. The cat suspiciously stared at Damon, as if questioning whether he was really stuck living with this guy for weeks without his Mommy as an ally.

"You miss her already?" Damon asked quietly.

The cat, although clearly not understanding Damon's question given his non-human state, did shift out of its defensive posture at Damon's soothing tone, his beady eyes still giving him a curious glare.

"Yeah," Damon sighed, pushing himself up off of his knees. "Me too."

* * *

Damon's repeated and unanswered banging on the hotel suite door, while clearly able to hear the booming music and loud conversations of the people inside, made him feel like the nerd who was trying to crash the cool kids' party. He was about ten seconds from just giving up and going to sit in a coffee shop somewhere before the door was answered by a dazed and confused twenty-something.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah, I'm Damon, Elena's friend. The front desk called about me a few seconds ago." Damon's eyes drifted into the luxurious suite. Although he couldn't see Elena in the main room, he _could_ see about ten others that he didn't recognize at all, making him wonder whether he'd even come to the right room.

The girl shook her head back and forth, and Damon was instantly reminded of the time he'd tried to get onto the film's set all of those months back. Hopefully, his princess in shining armor would come rescue him from yet another confused and overly obedient assistant.

"Damon." Well, _that_ was definitely not a princess. Damon turned his head towards the sound of the purr and his eyes immediately bulged. Katherine came up from behind the young girl, indelicately shoving her into the suite so that she could stumble back to the group. But what was most unsettling was the elaborate white and gold gown she was sporting.

"Jesus Christ, Katherine, are you shitting me?!" Damon cried. Although his tone was raised, the loud group on the couches barely registered his outburst.

"Come on, Damon," Katherine called out over her shoulder, already heading back into the room with Damon right on her tail. "Tell me how beautiful I look. Be a _gentleman_."

Damon bit back a growl. "I knew you were pathetic enough to spend your days living vicariously through people with actual _talent_, but this is just pitiful. You and I both know agents are not supposed to wear fucking ball gowns to your client's movie premiere."

Katherine let out an exaggerated pout, picking up a glass full of some fruity cocktail that Damon wouldn't even deign to taste. "You have such grandiose ideas about how awful I am, Damon. Maybe I'm just a girl who fell in love with a dress and wants to show support for her client by dressing the part."

"_Bullshit_," Damon shot back. "But the best part is that I doubt anybody will even notice you're there if you're anywhere _close_ to Elena."

Katherine shrugged, crossing the room quickly at the sound of her cell phone going off. As she scrolled through whatever message she received, she raised her voice so she could be heard by Damon regardless of the crowd's noise. "Oh, I'm sorry. Was that the long awaited 'thank you' speech I so rightfully deserve given that _I'm_ the one who's gotten Elena to this premiere in the first place? If so, you're welcome."

Damon rolled his eyes, ignoring her digging. "Where's Elena?"

Katherine was now distracted at this point, mumbling a swear word under her breath as her scrolling grew more frantic. "Uh, in the master… Fuck!"

Damon's frustration towards her waned, now more curious to see what was causing the typically unflappable Katherine to crack. "What's wrong?" he inquired, his tone slightly accusatory.

"Nothing," Katherine mumbled. Her head shot up at Damon's silence and she groaned when she saw his dubious gaze. "Seriously, nothing _you_ need to worry about. Just complications with our transportation set-up. I can get it fixed, but I need to run out for a few." Once again, Katherine was across the room, shoving aside a woman with a wild pink hairstreak to dig a bottle out of her bag. She came back to Damon, frantically thrusting the bottle in his hands. "I just need you to run this in for Elena."

Not that Damon had anything against it, but simply because he couldn't resist the opportunity to ruffle Katherine's feathers, he challenged it following her back to the entrance hall. "Isn't this what you hired these ten random people to do?"

"They've all been ridiculous disappointments, Damon!" Katherine cried, her anxiety increasing with every word. "Are you _happy_?! They're either already completely wasted or just some untrained idiots wanting to get their fucking fifteen minutes! It takes _awhile_ to set up a team and all of my good ones are with my other clients. I basically did Elena's hair and makeup _myself_! I would _love_ to stick around for you to hold this over my head, but I have to try to salvage the day for _your best friend_. So, please, Damon, just walk this in for her!"

Katherine was breathing heavily by the end of her rant and Damon even noticed a strand fall from her perfectly curled locks. Damon sighed. Regardless of how much she might piss him off, she _was_ totally devoted to her job and he knew a screw-up like this was rare and desperately avoided.

"I wouldn't have known something was off unless you told me," Damon reassured her, the animosity stripped from his tone. "You've done a good job so far. Just go. I'll deal with Elena."

Katherine blinked, almost as surprised as Damon was at his words. He decided he could rationalize his comforting as just trying to keep Katherine calm so that she could do her job better, but he knew it was really that side of him he was constantly trying to keep buried. Seeing a woman in distress just set something off in him that made him desperate to remedy the situation, to be the hero.

"Thanks," Katherine replied quietly, allowing herself a few moments of calm before rushing off to fix whatever had been broken.

Damon exhaled, glancing at the group in the living room and wondering why Katherine hadn't just sent them off yet, but determined it wasn't his place to kick them out. Besides, his main goal was still Elena.

Entering back into the small hallway, he opened every single closed door, only finding empty bathrooms and bedrooms, each a reminder of how overly opulent Katherine's choice had been. Once he made it to the end of the hall, he realized it made sense that the largest bedroom would be in the back.

For some reason, once he reached the expected door, he hesitated to open it. Instead, he found himself taking a deep breath, as though preparing himself for what he might find inside. His mind even briefly flickered to grabbing one of the drunken youths from the living room to do the ridiculously simple task for him. Damon nearly let out a groan as he allowed logic to correct him_. It was just Elena. Why the hell was he scared of her?_

The sinking suspicion that last night may have been far more monumental than he'd realized hit him like a ton of bricks.

Finally reaching a highly anticipated moment is typically always disappointing. In Damon's experience, the moment never lives up to its hype. He'd spent nearly every moment since Elena had walked away from him last night wondering what exactly would happen when he _did_ see her again. But as he stepped into the bedroom, all of his expectations were blown out the window.

Sitting cross-legged in the middle of a king-sized bed covered in various high-heeled sandals and beauty tools was Elena, her brown eyes fully focused on the laptop balancing on her thighs. Damon had caught her in this position a million different times since their friendship had reignited, but _never_ had she looked so damn good.

Elena's head finally shot up at Damon's entrance. "Hey," she mumbled, her expression shockingly apathetic before she dove straight back into her laptop. "What's up?"

Damon's jaw dropped. _Remind me to never have expectations for anything ever again. _"Elena, what are you doing?"

"Writing," Elena mumbled, her fingers rapidly hitting the keys. "I just need to get this out…"

Damon practically crashed the bottle of product he had in his hands down onto the nearby dresser as the realization of what Elena was _really_ doing hit him. "Alright, get the fuck up," Damon growled, his tone lacking in anger but not in urgency. Damon crossed to the bed, slamming Elena's laptop shut and grabbing her by the arm.

"Damon, what the hell? I didn't save that!" Elena cried, fighting slightly as he pulled her up and off of the bed.

"Do me a favor and shut up for five seconds," Damon replied calmly, dragging her over to the side of the room. Stopping once they reached his desired location, he positioned Elena, her wide eyes still focused on him.

"Damon-" she mumbled.

Damon grabbed her by the chin gently. "I _said_," he replied quietly before turning her gaze to face forward. "_Shut… up_."

Although he would have loved a dramatic gasp, the soft intake of breath he got instead was well worth it.

Thanks to the full-length mirror Damon had pushed her towards, Elena was now able to see the most beautiful thing in the room: herself.

Damon had seen pictures and sketches of the gown sitting on their kitchen counter a few weeks back, but the shots of it on the lifeless skin-and-bones model paled in comparison to the way it fell over Elena's curves. The silken fabric consisted of an ornate blood-red floral pattern on a cream backdrop, the straight floor-length skirt skimming over Elena's hips and legs. Two wide bands of vertical fabric joined in an elaborate halter fashion on top, leaving her back and arms bare, as well as an inch-thick line between her breasts. Elena's hair was curled into a loose bun to emphasize the allure of her exposed skin and the delicate diamond earrings that swung lightly back and forth as they reached their equilibrium.

"As your friend," Damon murmured into her ear. "My official duty is to make sure you never stop realizing just how big of a deal tonight is. No matter how scary that might be."

Elena swallowed, a slight flush rising on her cheeks at the intimate examination of both her appearance and the inside of her head. Damon sensed her discomfort increasing so he moved his hand, skimming his knuckles down her bare arm in an attempt to keep her calm. It seemed to have the opposite effect though, her muscles visibly tensing under his touch. Her eyes darted away from their previously locked inspection of her figure and she shifted her gaze to the dresser.

"What did you bring in earlier?" She asked evenly.

Damon blinked, surprised at her feigned nonchalance. He'd assumed there would be some sort of tension due to their heated encounter the previous night, but she must have just been too caught up in her own head thanks to the impending premiere. "Uh, I'm not sure," Damon replied, crossing to grab the squeeze bottle. "Looks like some sort of lotion."

Elena grabbed it from his hands once he'd come back, her brow furrowing as she read the label. "Oh, yeah. Katherine mentioned this earlier. It's supposed to make my skin glow or something like that for the cameras."

Elena opened the bottle, squeezing some of the formula into her palm. But as Damon watched her, he noticed her hands quiver as they went to spread the lotion across her forearms. Clearly, her self-reminder of the paparazzi's presence was forcing her back into her previously anxious state. Damon might have promised to not let her become too removed from tonight, but he sure as hell wasn't going to allow her to stew in her own worries either.

"You want some help?" Damon inquired.

Elena simply nodded, nearly shoving the bottle back into his hands. "I think I got my arms," she replied shakily. "But my back…"

"Got it," Damon replied, applying a dollop of the cream to his own palm before chucking the bottle back onto the bed behind him.

The twelve-year-old boy in him was doing _front flips_ over the opportunity to rub lotion on Elena's bare back. And although touching her ridiculously soft olive-toned skin was making him severely regret pulling away from her the previous night, Elena's gaze in the mirror proved that she was about one step from falling off of the cliff into panic mode. And he knew damned well that Elena would run for the hills if she were given the opportunity. Now was definitely not the time to delve deep into what Damon had discovered and how much he hated the idea of her leaving him for the next six weeks.

"Did you talk to Katherine yet?" Elena asked. Damon smirked at the obvious insecurity in her tone, although it only served to aggravate him further over Katherine's choice of dress.

"Katherine _who_?" Damon replied, catching a small smile slip across Elena's face.

"Damon, I'm serious," Elena shot back, biting her lip. "She looks-"

"Trashy and pathetic for trying so hard. Tonight isn't about _her_." Damon finished smoothing in the last of the sparkly concoction on her shoulders. "And regardless of what you might think, no one will even _notice_ her once they've seen you."

Elena stiffened at his words, surprising him. Apparently his innocent compliment had come out _far_ more sensually than he'd intended. As he replayed the moment back in his mind, he realized his voice had been about two shades deeper while his fingers had been absentmindedly playing with the thick straps that covered her chest.

Damon swallowed, prepared to remedy the situation with humor once again. He had a much stronger urge to stop himself from placating her and instead allow the meaning behind his sentiment settle in the air, but he knew that Elena didn't need any added stressors for her evening.

Yet another witty comment crafted to create that famous blush rested on the tip of his tongue, but Elena's quick dash out of his arms settled that internal debate for him.

"I can't do this!" Elena cried, her words coming out like a near hiss thanks to her over-accelerated breathing. "I can't do tonight. This is _too much, too fast_!" Elena whirled around, her eyes pleading. "Damon, you have to help me get out of here."

Damon's lips parted, his own heart rate increasing at her sudden emotional turnaround. "Hey, Elena, come on. I need you to take a deep breath-"

"No, no, no!" Elena darted to the bed, digging through a metallic clutch to obtain her cell phone. "I'm gonna call a cab and you're just going to tell Katherine that I'm sick, like _violently_ ill, and I'll just go back to the apartment. _Or_ we can go someplace together! Yeah, we'll just hop on a plane and go somewhere and Katherine won't be able to find us!"

Damon crossed the room quickly, grabbing the cell phone out of her shaking hands and tossing it out of her reach. Her completely irrational, although highly desirable, Plan B brainstorming was the beginning of a meltdown that would only serve to ruin her evening before it had even begun. He cursed himself for realizing too late that last night's serenity was only the calm before the storm. Elena was about to be faced with _hundreds_ of strangers shouting her name while also being forced to sit through two hours of her own face on a huge theater screen. This was her acting debut and tonight she'd be opening herself up to public criticism left and right. Elena could break down crying over _burnt toast_. He was an idiot to think something this taxing wouldn't push her over the limit.

Gripping her hands tightly, he said a silent prayer of gratitude that the tears hadn't started to fall, knowing that her makeup had probably taken at least an hour to complete. But her wide eyes and frantic breathing indicated that they were quickly arriving if he didn't do something to allay her fears. "Elena, I want to help you, but I need you to take some deep breaths. Can you do that for me?"

Elena shook her head back and forth rapidly. "Damon, I don't want to go! They're going to hate me. Everyone's going to hate me!"

Damon couldn't stop the small chuckle that fell from his lips at her absurdity. "That's _impossible_." Elena began to shake her head in doubt again, but he stopped her. "It's _impossible_," he repeated, emphasizing every syllable. He pulled her hands in between their chests, clasping them together with his own before making sure she met his stare. "Elena, you're _brilliant_. And I'm not going to bullshit you because you don't deserve to hear bullshit so you're going to listen to me when I tell you that you are _brilliant_. You made that shitty audition room in some studio in downtown LA light up the moment you started speaking. You're not standing here right now and you didn't get this role just because you look good in your underwear… although, you do look damned good in a swimsuit. You are standing here because you have an undeniable talent that _no one_ can take away from you. And I know without a doubt that this is only the _first_ premiere out of dozens and dozens more. And you will get through every single one of those premieres because you're _strong_. I don't think I've ever told you that, but you're one of the bravest and strongest people I know. You somehow made it out of that one-horse town in the middle of nowhere purely by your own _determination_. And by that same determination, you somehow got some _idiot_ who was far too content being _nothing_ for the rest of his life to move all the way across the country with you for no damned apparent reason. You worked your _ass_ off to get here today because you knew that you had something in you that the whole world should be able to see. And tonight they're going to see it and they're going to wonder where you've been their whole fucking lives."

Elena had been intently focused on Damon for his entire speech, a small smile breaking across her face at his jokes, her eyes watering and head shaking every time he heaped on another compliment. She swallowed deeply, her gaze falling to their interlocked hands between them. "And what if they don't?" She paused, collecting herself. "What if this is just one huge public failure? What if everyone still hates me?"

"Still impossible," Damon replied calmly. "Because I'm always going to be there. And I'm going to give you a standing ovation tonight even if I'm the only one in the whole theater clapping. And if everyone boos you and throws tomatoes at you, then I'm going to take you to that diner we went to the first night we were here, get some milkshakes to go, and we're going to find some place far, far away so that you'll never have to deal with those fucking idiots ever again." Elena let out a laugh, the relief flooding her face at his silliness.

"I'm serious," Damon shot back. "Don't laugh!" His command only increased both of their giggling. "You're going to dye your hair platinum blonde and I will start wearing Hawaiian shirts. We'll start breeding something… like _ferrets_… and we'll get morbidly obese so that we're unrecognizable to even our own parents."

"No way," Elena snapped, her grin sparkling. "There's no way you'd let yourself get fat. What would you do without your six-pack and your constant stream of women?"

"_See_? That's how much I'm willing to bet you're going to knock it out of the park tonight. I've got my _eight_-pack and casual sex on the line here."

As their laughter faded, Elena's smile began to waver and he could see her fighting internally to keep all of the negative thoughts away. He sighed. He knew that previously mentioned strength meant that the worst of her panic was gone, but it didn't mean that her anxiety didn't still flicker at the edges of her psyche.

He reached up to cup her chin, smoothing his thumb lightly across her cheekbones. As he stared at her, he was overwhelmed by the truth in his earlier statements. She _was_ brilliant. She was the dazzling ball of light in any room she was in. Even in the foulest of moods, all eyes could be locked on her. She could draw people in so tightly that they would leave behind everything they'd ever known and all reason just to follow her and her desperate ambition. And after tonight, so many others would begin to be pulled in by it. The spark behind those big brown eyes that were deadlocked with his would no longer be just for him. After tonight, it belonged to the world.

"You're going to be fine," Damon vowed, his voice coming out like a sigh. "No matter what happens tonight, I'll be right next to you. Okay?" Elena nodded her head slowly up and down, trusting him completely. "I love you and everything's going to be fine."

A bucket of ice cold water being poured over both of their heads wouldn't be able to compete with the amount of gut-wrenching shock his statement provided. It was the record scratch of all record scratches, the collision of two high-speed trains on the same track. And it took only about two seconds of rapid blinking for Elena to realize just how colossal that reassuring statement had been.

"What?"

* * *

Elena's question was left to hang in the thick air as the door to the bedroom swung open, Katherine too absorbed in her phone to realize what she'd just walked in on. "Alright, the car situation is resolved. I need Elena and Stefan to be seen going to the hotel together so the limo for you two will be in the front for the cameras and, Damon, you'll need to go out the side. I have a perfectly suitable car that will take you back to the apartment."

Katherine's head rose when she was met with complete silence. Elena could only see it in her peripheral, unable to rip her eyes away from Damon and the implicit inquiry in his stare. Mostly because it was the exact same one in her own.

"Oh god, _please_ tell me you're not having a breakdown."

Elena's head swiveled, given that the statement was directed at her. She blinked a few times before shaking her head rapidly back and forth. "Um, no. Well, yes I did, but Damon helped me through it. I'm fine now."

Katherine, now fully focused on the pair, was starting to become _vastly_ more aware of the tension in the room. Her gaze grew suspicious and her tone accusatory. "Did anything _else_ happen?" she asked through gritted teeth.

Elena turned to Damon, as though he was the only one who would have the answer. But his eyes were now turned down to the floor, his hands in his pockets. She bit back a sigh at how guilty he appeared, knowing she wouldn't be able to brush off Katherine's concerns. He really was the only one that could answer whether something vital had just occurred. If he would give her anything else to go off of, she wouldn't feel like she was covering something up. "No, it just got too intense for a minute. Nothing to worry about."

Katherine's stare was lethal. "I hope both of you understand how important tonight is when it comes to setting Elena up for the press. I am not prepared to market Elena in some sort of twisted relationship with her roommate so don't you dare pull this kind of warped bullshit when all eyes are on her. Do you understand? It's bad enough I let you bring Damon as your plus-one."

"It's fine, Katherine," Elena snapped, enough fury in her tone to even surprise Katherine. "Damon and I are just _friends_." Her head whipped around to the man standing next to her. "Right?"

Although his input on the situation was meant to placate Katherine, Elena was also using it as her own personal litmus test. Damon hadn't been able to inform her of just how seriously she should be taking those three little words and she wanted answers. Was she _meant_ to feel like the ground had just shifted beneath her? Or was it just another example of her hearing what she wanted to hear?

But Katherine wasn't having it. "Whatever. I don't have time to fuck around with your teenage drama. We're running late as it is and I don't mean just the fashionable kind. Say your goodbyes. With the amount I have planned for Elena tonight, you guys won't be seeing each other again until _June_."

Elena felt the panic rise again in her throat. Mentally, she was _screaming_ at Katherine for what she'd just said and pleading with her to leave them alone for just a few more minutes. She couldn't just _not_ see Damon for the next six weeks without answers. It was bad enough to be faced with the reality that she was going to be without her best friend for nearly a month and a half, but now there was the looming possibility that he could want to be more than that… _much_ more than that.

"Damon?" She was grateful that at least Katherine had distracted herself with packing up some of their things. She wouldn't notice just how intently Elena was focusing on him.

Damon was finally meeting her gaze again, but he didn't seem to be able to handle her intense scrutiny. Instead, he pulled her into what was just meant to be their goodbye hug. And for the first time ever, his arms didn't comfort her. The embrace was awkward and tight, as if he'd rather be anyplace else but right there with her.

Damon pulled back fairly quickly, obviously feeling that same discomfort. Katherine was finished grabbing what she needed and was now waiting at the door. "Ready?" she asked, jerking her head in the direction of the hallway.

Elena nodded dumbly, still feeling shell shocked from the past five minutes. She weakly turned her head back in his direction. "Bye, Damon," she mumbled. There were a million things left to say, but they were all left to be said by him.

"Bye, Elena," Damon replied just as feebly. Elena felt her gut wrench at the words. _Silly girl, _she reminded herself. _Always turning your molehills into mountains._

Elena turned for the door as Katherine walked out into the main part of the suite, hurriedly heading for the main door. Elena decided to focus on getting her breathing back to normal, needing some sort of natural assistance to make it through. The sharp tug of her wrist that followed soon after, though, was the deep exhale of relief she so desperately craved.

She wasn't given much time to think, which, in hindsight, was exactly what she needed. Damon's lips were on hers before she could comprehend the gravity of what was happening, allowing her to just fall into it. Her body welcomed his touch this time, even if it was only the gentle pressure of his lips against hers and his fingers around her wrist. The kiss was brief… way, _way_ too brief given what had almost occurred the previous night, but it didn't mean it lacked in impact. In fact, it felt like the most potent kiss they'd ever had. And when he pulled away from her, an involuntary whimper came from deep within her throat, inviting a small, sad smile across his face.

"I'm sorry." Damon whispered, his words laced with an intensity she'd never been faced with before. She'd always known it was in him, but hearing it for the first time made her quake. "But I meant what I said."

And with that, Damon exited the room, trailing after Katherine out of the suite, leaving Elena with no choice but to follow. And follow she did.

* * *

The problem with opening oneself up to a feeling or an idea as intense as what Damon had encountered that night is that it quickly becomes the only thing one can dwell upon.

And tonight, Damon had opened himself up to the most intense emotion of all.

His unintentional slip-up had consumed him so deeply that there had been nothing left to think about. And throughout the thousands upon thousands of pictures taken and the expected standing ovation of the film as soon as the credits rolled, he'd thought of nothing but what he'd done. Every fleeting emotion, every choice was dictated by the words that had tumbled through his lips. His mind was not his own. It was hers and she would still own it even thousands of miles away.

Damon wasn't unfamiliar with the phenomena. He'd experienced it before. It was just how he fell in love: totally and effusively. His only other girlfriend could attest to that. He'd always assumed teenage hormones had been what had made his emotions seem so overriding, but even his much older self was left with the same crippling longing.

He wanted her in every way and all at once. Seeing her in those passionate and sexually driven scenes with guys like Stefan or Mason was enough to make him _rabidly_ jealous, regardless of how fake he knew it was. And watching her from a distance as she'd grown from enthusiastic and awed to exhausted and overwhelmed made him want to steal her away from the crowds and give her the safety and comfort he knew she so desperately craved. All of this was combined with the swelling pride of seeing his girl do so damned well, despite her doubt and fears.

The bitter realization that he would be without her despite that crushing need made him chuck his shoes against the wall the second he settled on the bed in his empty apartment. It was close to midnight and he knew he needed to get some sleep before work the next morning. But he was also well aware that he wouldn't be getting _any_ sleep tonight.

"Fuck," Damon hissed. He shook his head at his naivety from the previous night. While dancing with Elena, he'd wondered what could possibly go wrong by opening himself up to something more with her. And now he knew. Now all he could do was hate himself and feel like shit.

Damon yanked off his jacket, watch, and belt before collapsing back onto the bed, his eyes burning holes into the ceiling. He might as well start the self-loathing as soon as possible. His mind first floated to the shelf of alcohol just a few rooms away, but he knew he probably shouldn't risk losing his job on top of everything else by coming in drunk the next day.

The violently loud ringing of his cellphone cut him off from making any more plans. Damon groaned, hoping it was somebody important on the other end so that he could so graciously fuck it up with someone else. The cherry on top of the self-deprecation sundae.

"Hello?"

"You suck."

Damon felt his stomach tense at the voice on the other end. _No, no, no… fuck no._

"Elena-"

"No, _really_. You need to hear that. You need to hear that you suck. And you need to know that it was shitty of you to do that and to say that when you knew I couldn't do anything about it. When you _knew_ I was leaving for six weeks. I mean, Jesus Christ, Damon. Don't you think I have enough shit on my plate already? You couldn't have waited to let something like that slip when we had some time to talk it out or, I don't know, actually be in the same _country_ together."

Damon let out a deep exhale. "You're right, Elena. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well you already said that." The steam and frustration Elena had built up over the past few hours had faded as quickly as it had come and now she seemed just as stressed and worn down as Damon was. She was silent on the other end of the line, the silence peppered with the occasional delicate inhale.

Damon knew he needed to redeem himself for his uncouth declaration. "Well, we can talk now... Although I'm sure whatever hotel suite party Stefan is throwing right now is pretty epic."

Elena scoffed on the other end. "Yeah, well… you know me. I just _love_ epic parties."

Damon smirked. "I do know you and I know that if there's an awesome party somewhere, you're probably hiding away in your room avoiding it." He could see her already, probably curled up on that same hotel bed still in her extravagant dress, rolling her eyes every time the music got too loud or the shouts got too exuberant.

Elena was silent for a few moments before he heard her shift, her voice coming out as timid as a whisper. "So… you love me?"

Damon's chest tightened. _Well, fuck. She was going straight for the kill._ "Yeah."

_Idiot._

"And just to clarify before we get way too deep into this, you love _love_ me? Beyond just the 'crying at my funeral kind of love.'"

Damon smirked. "Yeah, beyond that."

Elena sighed heavily. "And when did you figure this out?"

Damon bit back a groan at the way she was so casually talking her way around the subject. "I don't _know_, Elena. It wasn't like I did a couple of scientific experiments and made a theory based off of my findings. It was… _gradual_ or whatever. I guess I picked up on it last night."

"Last _night_?!" Elena hissed. "And you didn't think you should wait a few days or something before you started blurting it out?!"

"It just slipped out, Elena! Christ, I didn't _plan_ for this to happen. And I know it might be the last thing you want to hear, but maybe I didn't realize just how strongly I felt until I'd said it out loud."

The silence that followed was incredibly loud and Damon almost had to check if the call was still connected. But before he could pull the phone away to check the screen, Elena let out another deafening sigh. "Isn't this supposed to be more romantic?" she asked quietly.

Another wave of self-hatred rushed through him. Through all of his egocentric, narcissistic focus, he'd neglected to realize that his declaration was Elena's first. No man had ever told her those three words before and he'd fucked it up.

"Yeah, it is," Damon snapped, the anger in his tone fully directed at him. "You were just unlucky enough to get saddled with a fuck-up like me."

Damon expected another sigh or more of that crippling silence, so the melodious, disbelieving giggle that filled his right ear was surprising to say the least. "_You_? The fuck-up? God, Damon. You couldn't be more wrong if you think that's how I feel about you."

The organs underneath his flat stomach fluttered slightly at Elena's words. He stopped himself from completely showing his hand and asking her just what she had meant by that. He wasn't sure he was quite ready to hear her answer, despite the hope her words had created. Clearly, she wasn't jumping at the chance to make it clear that she reciprocated his feelings.

Damon sat up in the bed, letting out a groan. "I wish you were here, Elena," he remarked, unsure if she would even be able to hear him thanks to the way his mouth was slightly muffled into his hands. "I could do this right if you were here."

He practically heard her smirk despite their distance. "Maybe it's best for us to be apart," she mumbled. "We've never done this sort of shit the way we're supposed to. I mean, I highly doubt there's much else we could do with my last five hours in the country…"

Damon scoffed. "Oh, I could think of _plenty_ of things to do in five hours if you were here, Elena."

His words gave Elena pause and Damon could tell he'd shaken her. "I-I didn't mean like _that_." Although her voice revealed her nerves, he could also sense the slight backdrop of hunger he'd evoked.

"I know what you meant, Elena."

Elena's breathing had now ramped up slightly. "Is that why you…"

"No," Damon cut her off, stopping her from any doubts. "I want you for more than that. But it is part of it. Hell, it's been part of it for a long time. And I know it's been part of it for you, too."

"Yeah," Elena replied. Damon was shocked by how one little word could both relieve and torment him. "Yeah, it has."

Damon knew she was thinking about the night before, how much she'd wanted him in a way she'd always been taught was so wrong. But through all of the fleeting moments they'd shared, she now craved that heightened sense of touch. She knew what it was like to reach that release from him and she wanted it again. Just as badly as he wanted it.

"Elena, if you were here," he paused, swallowing against his tight throat. "If you let me, I would make it up to you. I would make it _all_ up to you."

Elena's wobbly exhale caused him to recognize just how desperately he wanted her. If she was any other woman, this would have been where he'd initiated some quick and dirty form of phone sex, but she wasn't. She was _Elena_. She was the woman he was in love with. The woman who deserved romance and care and time to figure out whether she was ready to accept what he was offering. So despite how much he might desire otherwise, despite how much he would regret it the second he hung up, he knew he had to let her go.

"But, _instead_, you're going to hang up the phone. You're going to go to sleep and wake up in a few hours and hop on a plane. You're going to go travel the world with Stefan and Caroline and Katherine and show everyone else just how incredible you are. And if you get the chance, you're going to shoot me an email or a picture or two. Because you'll feel bad for that pathetic guy who's in love with you who has nothing to do but feed an obese cat and fight in divorce mediations between conceited rich people. And, if you feel so inclined, once you get back from letting the whole _world_ fall in love with you, you'll give me the chance to make it up to you. To do this the right way."

Damon swallowed, finishing the last of his speech as calmly as he could. He hated the idea of letting her hang up, not knowing when he'd be able to speak to her again. But if this is what he had to do to make up for his bad timing, for his selfish decisions, then he had to do it. He had to love her enough to let her go… or whatever that bullshit was that littered romance movies.

"Damon, there's something I need to tell you."

Damon's chest tightened. _Holy shit._ She wasn't going to do this. She wasn't going to make this a _million_ times harder for him. She had every right to, of course. Give him a taste of his own medicine. But he wasn't sure he could handle it any better than she had.

"What?"

"Damon, I'm not… I'm not at the hotel."

Elena had continued. Elena had delivered a whole damn speech, one she later told him about. She'd explained how she'd hopped in a cab, shoving a nonsensical amount of money at the driver so that he'd keep his mouth shut about her destination. She'd told Katherine she'd forgotten something at home, driving off regardless when Katherine had understandably objected. She'd explained how she'd arrived at the apartment a few minutes before Damon had, hiding away in her bedroom unable to actually face him. How, when she'd heard him enter, she'd only been able to work up the courage to call him, hoping he would answer, hoping he would reassure her that she'd made the right choice. But Damon heard none of it.

Because the second he knew she wasn't at that hotel, Damon had hung up the phone. The second he realized there was no other place she could be, Damon was ripping himself up off the bed and rushing across the apartment. The second he realized that she was there, that she'd always been _right there_, and that he'd wasted even a _second_ of his time being away from her, Damon was flinging open her bedroom door.

By the time she was done, Damon was already there.

**Eeep :)**

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